Away from You
by eppie
Summary: Weather wasn't Madame Morrible's only specialty. She had another talent...one that could change everything. AU, Fiyeraba. Winner of 2nd Place 2010 Greg Award for Best AU and 2nd Place 2009 Greg Award for Best Dead Story-back from the dead again!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This will be a very AU story. Because it doesn't quite work with the story, Fiyero is not, nor was he ever, a scarecrow. I do not own Wicked. I do own some Wicked memorabilia. Enjoy!**

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Morrible sat in her cell, fuming. She still couldn't figure out when exactly things went wrong. The obvious answer, of course, would be the moment at which her once star pupil had adopted a quite unexpected, holier-than-thou attitude, and had quite literally flown off the handle. But, no…that wasn't it. After all, Morrible had quickly regained her own status in the Wizard's eyes, creating for him in Elphaba an even more effective enemy, one that terrorized and disgusted the citizens of Oz much more than the Animals ever had.

If anything, Elphaba's stand against the Wizard had made Morrible even more valuable to him. Among her many talents, the woman was highly skilled in public relations. The Wizard had quickly realized that, without his Press Secretary, he wouldn't have been quite so great and powerful. And in creating and spreading rumors about the Green Thing, Morrible's talent was quite obvious.

So when was it, then, that things had gone South? When she'd lost control of that stupid little nitwit, Glinda? But when had that happened, exactly? The silly girl had seemed comfortable enough in her role as "the Good Witch," smiling and waving. She'd been too vain, or afraid, or possibly weak to join her friend that day years ago. And that vanity and weak-mindedness continued during the next several years. Glinda was a malleable puppet, indeed. And though she knew Elphaba's death was likely to upset the girl, Morrible had never imagined that it would have led to…well, this.

Morrible's irritated travel down memory lane was not merely the bored, frustrated musings of a condemned woman. Rather, she hoped it was the key to her freedom. After all, weather was not her only specialty. She had another, although less controllable, manner of sorcery up her sleeve.

One that might allow her to go back a bit…to fix things…

She sighed, recognizing the pointlessness of trying to pinpoint the exact moment in time where she had lost control. All she knew for certain was that she needed to go back to a time before any of this mess had begun…a time before Glinda turned on her, a time before Elphaba turned on the Wizard. Probably, to be safe, she should go back even further…

Satisfied with that, as imprecise as it was, Morrible leaned against the cold dungeon wall and closed her eyes, muttering quietly to herself a spell…one she rarely used as its usefulness was questionable. Time travel had its rules. No killing, unfortunately, being the most prominent. And one could never be sure exactly where they would end up in time. Morrible knew she would have to be creative.

She braced herself as a feeling of nausea overcame her and she felt the room begin to spin. Then, there was a flash of light.

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_**Fourteen Years Earlier**_

Seven-year-old Elphaba's breath caught in her throat as she stared at the scene in front of her.

Nessarose, four at the time, had begged her father for days for permission to visit the traveling fair. He had refused her for a while, believing that the spectacle was perverse and certainly not something of which the Unnamed God would ever approve. However, he could never deny his youngest child for long, and eventually relented. Still not willing to attend the abomination himself, he told his eldest daughter to take her sister.

So here they were. Inside a large tent, surrounded by jugglers, fire-eaters, and…cages. In one a bear. Another held a tiger. A third a large gorilla. Some of the animals were deformed, like the two-headed pig, and the colt with six legs. Those who had come to the fair laughed and pointed at its caged displays.

Elphaba was horrified.

"Nessa, let's go." Her voice came out a strangled whisper.

"No!" The younger girl protested. "Father said you had to take me! He'll be mad if you make me go home now." Even at her tender age, Nessarose knew how to effectively manipulate her sister.

Elphaba bit her lip, defeated. She stared at the cage in front of her, which held a lioness. Two boys, only slightly older than the Thropp girls, were poking it through the bars with sharpened sticks. The cage was only slightly larger than its occupant, and she was thus unable to escape the boys' cruelty.

Unable to watch the torment any longer, Elphaba bravely stepped forward. But before she could address the boys, the lioness took matters into her own hands, unleashing a fierce roar.

The boys jumped back, dropping their sticks. People screamed. Children cried. The owner of the fair, a portly man in a top hat, stepped forward toward the offending animal.

"I warned you not to do that again, you stupid beast!" With that, he drew a whip from his belt, and lashed the lioness five times in quick succession. She cowered, shuddered, and lay down. After a few moments of awkward silence, the visitors to the fair resumed activity as normal, as though nothing too out of the ordinary had occurred.

Elphaba's eyes were still riveted to the lioness, and suddenly she found the animal's gaze meeting her own. The creature's gaze was sad and gentle, seeming to recognize in Elphaba a young soul sympathetic to its plight.

"Child, please…please get help."

Elphaba's eyes widened. "You're…an Animal?" She turned to her sister, frantic. "Did you hear that, Nessa? She spoke! She's a Lioness! We have to do something!"

The fair owner overheard the frantic child, as did several other baffled fair-goers. He strode forward quickly, and grabbed her arm. "That's enough, girl!" He said angrily. And then, loudly enough that his customers would overhear, "You're imagining things."

She whirled around and glared up at the man, her indignation shaking her small frame and making her seem much older than her seven years. "I'm not!" she said hotly. "Let her go!"

He ignored her, seeing her properly for the first time. "Lurline…you're green!"

"And you're fat," she responded dismissively. "If you don't let her go, I'm telling my father, and he's the _governor_." In truth, she wasn't all that certain that Frex would get involved, but the threat at least sounded plausible.

He stared at her wordlessly for a moment, in that uncomfortable manner that people always stared at her. Finally, he shrugged. "Tell him, then. I'll be packed up and gone by tonight, anyway."

Growing more upset by the moment, and realizing the emergent nature of the situation, Elphaba turned, grabbing her sister's chair, and hurriedly left the tent, its flap slapping shut definitively behind her.

The man stared after her, and sighed, shaking his head wistfully. "People would come from all over Oz and pay to see that little green freak." He said quietly.

Standing a few feet away in a shadowed corner of the tent, an old woman overheard him.

And she smiled.

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_**The Present**_

The sunlight filtering through his eyelids, Fiyero smiled. Not yet ready to greet the morning, he brushed his lips against her shoulder, eyes closed, and let himself drift back to the events of the day before.

"_I still can't believe it, you know."_

"_What?" he'd asked her, with that careless half-smile that she'd always found so endearing, even back in the days when she had told herself he was nothing more than a brainless golden boy._

"_That you'd leave everything, for the life of a fugitive. Glinda. Your castles. Everything…for _this_." She'd looked down at her hands, suddenly shy, and so uncertain._

_He lifted her chin so that their eyes met. "For you. Don't you understand? _You're _everything."_

_He recognized that his sentiment, though genuine, sounded silly. But in that moment, she'd needed to hear it. To know that she was enough. _

_She flushed and smiled slightly. God, she was beautiful. He kissed her, trying to tell her what he couldn't quite get right with words. They'd made love, finding everything in one another that they had each been lacking for too long. They had fallen asleep, entwined, somehow certain that everything was finally right, despite everything else._

Sighing contentedly, Fiyero finally opened his eyes and sat up. He turned to gently shake Elphaba awake, knowing that, at least for now, they couldn't afford to stay in one place for too long.

He froze, staring at the woman who lay next to him.

A woman with familiar, perky blonde curls.

As if she knew he was watching her, Glinda turned and smiled amidst a ladylike yawn. "Morning, dearest!"

"Glinda?" He said, horrorstricken. "But, what…where's Elphaba?" _No, surely it couldn't have all been a dream…it had been so, _devastatingly_ real._

She frowned in confusion and annoyance. "Elphaba! Fiyero Tiggular, just _who_ exactly is this 'Elphaba'?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the reviews! They keep me postin'! (*hint, hint* ;-)). Yeah, and Wicked's still not mine.**

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_She frowned in confusion and annoyance. "Elphaba! Fiyero Tiggular, just who exactly is this 'Elphaba'?"_

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In his state of shock, he had caught only the surprise and indignation in her tone—her actual question hadn't yet registered.

And he recognized, all too clearly, that perhaps it had been a dream, as cruelly vivid as it was. Elphaba had never come back. His years of parading around as Captain of the Gale Force hadn't paid off. She was still out there, somewhere.

And just as clearly, he realized that enough was enough. He couldn't wait around any longer. He'd go mad…perhaps he already had.

"I have to go," he said softly.

"What?" She looked at him as though he'd grown a second head. "What in Oz are you talking about? Where exactly is it that you have to go?"

"To find her."

"Find _who_?" She asked, exasperated.

"Elphaba!" He said, beginning to grow a frustrated himself with her sudden obtuseness. But then he looked at her, and felt a little guilty. In the early morning, with her hair mussed and her eyes still a bit sleepy (though the irritation shown through), she seemed younger than he had remembered. Less worldly, somehow. She didn't have any idea, that all this time…he'd never really loved her. She deserved to be let down a little more gently.

"You have to understand," He began, trying to stay calm, "I never meant for this to happen. To hurt you, I mean. But Glinda, I love _her_. I think I've always loved her, really." He swallowed. "And she's out there, alone. Probably afraid, though she'd never admit to it. Having to hear all of those horrible things people are saying about her, all of those ridiculous, cruel rumors." He drew in a shaky breath. "All of that…it's enough to break a person, Glinda. Even one as strong as she is…as she's had to be. I can't just sit here anymore and do nothing. She has to know that she's not alone."

She opened her mouth and then closed it again, and just stared at him, her expression unreadable.

There was a long silence. Uncomfortable, uncertain, he broke it. "Glinda, listen—"

"What is this 'Glinda' business?" She interrupted shrilly, catching him off-guard. "You know I hate being called that. I never appreciated that old goat doing it, and I certainly don't appreciate it coming from you!"

He wasn't sure what confused him more. That Glinda…Galinda?...had suddenly seemed to forget the gesture she had made years ago, or the fact that she'd used the distasteful slur against their former professor.

He sank back down to the bed for a moment, in an attempt to get his bearings. It was then that, for the first time, he realized that something else was…off.

"Where are we?" he asked quietly. He had assumed they were in their room in the Wizard's palace, but he found that his current surroundings lacked the typical verdigris.

"Are you serious?" she responded. Then after a moment, "In your bedroom, Fiyero. In the castle."

"The…you mean, Kiamo Ko?"

"No," she said impatiently, "the other castle." She sighed. "Fiyero, you're really beginning to frighten me. Did you hit your head or something? Because you're not making any sense. You know quite well that we've been living here for the past year. And that I have never been called 'Glinda'—except by mistake," she added, annoyed. "And I have absolutely no idea who this woman is that you're talking about." She paused, then added ruefully, "Or why she means so much to you."

"You're telling me that you don't know who Elphaba is? 'Elphie?'" He tried. Then, bitterly, "The so-called 'Wicked Witch of the West?'" He hesitated. "Your best friend?"

She searched his eyes, her own swimming with hurt, confusion, concern… "Fiyero, _you're_ my best friend. Not to mention my fiancé." She bit her lip, tears springing to her eyes. "For Lurline's sake, Fiyero, we're supposed to be getting married next week! Is this your bizarre way of getting cold feet? Sudden amnesia combined with delusions about a woman who doesn't exist? Am I really all that bad?" Her ever-rising pitch indicated oncoming hysteria.

"What? No, I—this has nothing to do with you, Gli…Galinda. And she does exist!" He closed his eyes for a moment, at a loss. "Look, I know you think I'm crazy, but there's something very wrong, here. I haven't lived in this castle for over five years, since before we went to Shiz. And Elphaba…she was—is—real. She was our friend." He paused, unsure of whether to go on. "And—I thought this was a dream, but now I'm not so sure—last night, I was with her. When I fell asleep, she was next to me."

He turned toward Glinda again. Tears were running unchecked down her face. "You _bastard_," she choked out. "If you want me to leave, if you don't want to marry me, just tell me. Don't put on a show and act like a lunatic. Don't waste my time!" With that, she turned swiftly and headed to the closet. She emerged only moments later, dressed, but much more disheveled than was typical of her.

"I'll send for my things," she muttered, without looking at him, and headed for the door.

"Wait," he said, but even to his own ears it sounded half-hearted.

The door slammed shut behind her.

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**A/N: Shorter chapter, I know...sorry. But bear with me. Things are about to get interesting. A certain reunion may be occurring shortly...well, sort of. I shall say no more.  
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	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! And still not mine. :)**

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Only three short years ago, he had wholly subscribed to a philosophy limited to dancing through life. Now, Fiyero was experiencing what he was fairly certain amounted to his first panic attack.

After Glinda's hasty exit, he had taken a deep breath and begun to further explore his surroundings. He soon noticed that his wardrobe lacked any Gale Force uniforms, but instead was stocked solely with princely accoutrements.

He had barely digested the significance of this discovery when a knock sounded at his door. "Prince Fiyero," he heard Avaric call. "Your father wishes to see you."

_My father?_ Of course, he supposed it made sense that his father also resided in the Vinkan castle that had always served as the primary residence of the royal family. A short, mirthless chuckle escaped him. _Like any of this makes sense…_

He hesitated, then hastily dressed and left the room. He was torn—he felt as though he needed to be doing something, taking decisive action of some sort. But then, meeting with his father made as much sense as did anything else at the moment. Perhaps it might shed further light on what the _hell_ was going on.

"Ah, son." The king smiled as Fiyero approached. "Are you well?"

"I—" Fiyero hesitated. If Glinda hadn't recognized the sudden strangeness of things, his father, who he'd rarely spoken to since being shipped off to the first of many schools, certainly wouldn't be of much help. "I'm fine," he ended.

"Good, good. Have you had a chance to review the agenda for the meeting this morning?"

"The…meeting?" Once again, unsurprisingly, he was at a total loss.

However, Fiyero's characteristic flakiness did not seem to come as a surprise to his father. The king sighed. "Yes, the annual Ozian Dignitaries' Consortium. It's quite important, Fiyero. I had hoped you would be prepared."

"Oh…that. Yes, yes of course."

King Tiggular did not seem convinced. "You'll be taking the throne soon, my boy. You're expected to make connections, build a rapport with leaders throughout Oz. This meeting is a prime opportunity for that. Everyone is in attendance, from the Wizard himself to the new young governor of Munchkinland." He paused. "She's a Thropp the Third Descending, you know. It would do a great deal for the Vinkus if you were able to establish some connection with her."

Fiyero's eyes widened. "Thropp?"

His father nodded. "Come to think of it, I believe the two of you may have even been at Shiz together."

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Fiyero entered the banquet hall, glancing around anxiously. The room was filled with dignitaries. Including, he noted with some disgust, the Wizard—as his father had predicted—as well as Madame Morrible. Many he didn't recognize, obviously much to the king's chagrin, but then, there was only one who he was truly looking for.

"Oh, Fiyero," his father said from behind him, "introduce yourself to Governor Thropp."

Fiyero turned swiftly to see the woman seated behind them.

His heart sank. _Of course._

"Nessarose," he acknowledged with a tilt of his head. His strained smile hid teeth clinched in frustration and thwarted hope.

She didn't seem to notice. "Fiyero," she said cordially.

"So the two of you do know each other?" The king said, pleased.

"From school," she confirmed.

"Ah, wonderful then." He replied. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to." With that, he left them.

Fiyero sank down in the seat next to her. She was alive, he noted dully. Another strange fact to file away.

"Are you well, Fiyero?" Nessarose asked pleasantly. "It's been quite some time since we've seen one another." She glanced around. "Where's Galinda? I was delighted to hear of your engagement."

"She's not here," he responded shortly, lacking the patience for niceties. "Listen, Nessarose…do you have any idea where Elphaba is?"

"What?" Her inviting demeanor suddenly disappeared, replaced by a cool and guarded one. "How do you--?" she started. "Why are you asking me about this?"

"Well, I mean, I thought you might—"

"Oh, I understand," she said coldly, almost dangerously. "You—or your father, I suppose?—plan to drag our family's name through the mud. Spread vicious stories, before I've even had a chance to establish myself as governor." She looked away from him and shook her head. "How silly of me. I thought we were to be allies."

"What? Nessa, no, that's not it at all." He sighed. "Look, I know you're angry at what happened, but you have to understand, it wasn't her fault."

She glanced back at him sharply. "Of course not! But it wasn't mine either." She lowered her voice, so as not to attract unwanted attention. "I know my father made some mistakes, alright? Especially when we were children. But _I'm not him._" She paused. "Fiyero…however it is that you know about it, what happened to my sister happened a long time ago. I've had to let it go. Please don't drudge it back up again."

A rising surge of panic rose up through his chest, hindering his ability to breath, to speak. His questions were only yielding answers that further confused—and terrified—him. "Nessa," he started, in a desperate attempt to receive some sort of clarification, even though he was no longer sure he wanted it.

But he was interrupted by the Wizard, who had come to the podium, minus his ridiculous mechanical head, to begin the day's proceedings.

Fiyero didn't—couldn't—pay attention. Nessarose's words kept playing through his head…_"what happened to my sister." _He tried to tell himself that it could mean anything, yet he couldn't deny that her words had a strange, terrible sense of finality.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: My longest chapter yet! I struggled with it a bit, so I'm sorry if that's evident. As always, I appreciate your reviews. They encourage me to ignore other obligations in favor of writing more (hint, hint! ;)).  
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**Wicked =/= mine.**

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_Fiyero didn't—couldn't—pay attention. Nessarose's words kept playing through his head…__"what happened to my sister." He tried to tell himself that it could mean anything, yet he couldn't deny that her words had a strange, terrible sense of finality._

His thoughts were interrupted when his father stood, addressing the Prime Minister of Gillikin, who had, apparently, been speaking. "We would be happy to provide you with the services of our army," the king said, glancing disapprovingly at Fiyero, as though he should have been the one responding to the other man's apparent request. "Where have they set up camps?"

The Prime Minister smiled gratefully. "They're scattered along our southern border," he responded. "Not only are their activities morally reprehensible, but they're disrupting our trade, you see."

"Of course, of course," said the king. "I'll send several troops, led by my son himself, to clear out the area tomorrow."

"That's quite generous of you, Your Majesty," said the other man. "If I can ever return the favor, when our military is better financed of course, I would be honored to do so."

The King nodded in acknowledgment, and took his seat. Shortly thereafter, the meeting was adjourned.

Fiyero was uncertain about what had just transpired, and, quite honestly, could care less. He turned back to Nessarose, but she regarded him coldly and wheeled away from him before he had a chance to further pursue their conversation.

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The evident urgency with which he needed to talk with her—with which he had been talking with her earlier in the day—was not lost on Madame Morrible. In fact, she had been watching the two with great interest throughout the afternoon, even, at one point surreptitiously moving closer to them in order to more effectively eavesdrop.

What she had heard had disturbed her greatly. However, she took some small comfort in the knowledge that the prince was too brainless to screw things up for her.

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Despite being somewhat accustomed to it, King Tiggular was beginning to grow weary of his son's apparent inability to pay attention. Upon learning that Fiyero had no idea about the mission for which he had been volunteered, the king irritably explained it to him.

"These groups of vagabonds have unfortunately become quite common. Our army has dealt with them many times within our own borders. It's quite simple, really—clear them out, have them move on at threat of arrest. It's not a mission that I would ordinarily send you on, being that it's rather mundane—you're dealing with mere panhandlers and the like. However, we must do what we can to build our alliances," he finished pointedly. "You heading this mission shows the Gillikenese that we take their problems, however small, quite seriously. And you heard the Prime Minister—they will likely return the favor, should we need them to do so."

"Hm." Fiyero responded, glancing out the carriage window.

"Have you been listening at all?" The king asked, annoyed.

Fiyero sighed. "Go to Gillikin, clear out the vagabonds. Got it."

The king shook his head, wondering exactly how much longer he would have to prolong his retirement before he could trust Fiyero to step into his place.

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The next morning, Fiyero found himself riding toward the Gillikin border with a small troop of men. Once again, he'd asked himself why he was going along with this, instead of leaving the castle altogether and forming a highly driven one-man search party. However, he grudgingly admitted to himself that he still had no idea what was going on and why everything had changed so dramatically—and that until he figured this out, he would be of no use to Elphaba.

It took his troop the entire morning to reach the border, at which point they quickly spotted one of the camps of which the Prime Minister had spoken. Fiyero soon realized that his men had done this sort of thing before. Several of them rode up to the panhandlers sitting just outside of makeshift tents and ordered them to evacuate the area immediately or risk arrest. The rest of the men divided themselves into smaller groups and entered the tents. Fiyero followed one of the latter groups into the largest of the dwellings.

He soon realized it wasn't a dwelling at all. It was filled with cages, stacked one on top of the other, lining the walls. There must have been over fifty, each one filled with a different sort of animal.

"What is this?" Fiyero asked Avaric, who had entered with him.

For once, Fiyero was not regarded strangely for asking a question. Avaric thought it quite normal, as the prince had never accompanied his men on one of these raids. "LiveStock black market," he responded. "The owners of all the unlicensed traveling fairs come here to get their Animals."

"Animals?" Fiyero repeated, shocked. He regarded the Wolf at his right more closely. He would have thought the creature a wolf—his eyes were dull, lacking any of the insightful, thoughtful "spark" that separated the Animals from the animals.

"What's your name?" He asked the Wolf kindly. In response, it only scratched itself, then lay down and began to lick its paw.

"He doesn't speak," Fiyero said softly to himself, momentarily forgetting Avaric's presence. He couldn't help but think back to the caged Lion Cub that he and Elphaba had rescued from a similar fate.

Fiyero's melancholic trip down memory lane was interrupted as he noticed that one of his men had apparently located the owner of the outfit. A heated exchange took place, ending in the man's loud, angry agreement to leave. He called to several of the vagabonds still outside, who proceeded to enter the tent and begin unstacking the cages and moving them outside, into waiting wagons.

"What the--? Hold on! Hold on a second!" Fiyero yelled, making himself heard over the grunts of the men and banging of cages against one another. "What's going on here?"

"We're moving them out of the area, Your Highness, per the king's orders," Avaric responded, finally giving Fiyero the "have-you-lost-your-mind" look that he had grown quite accustomed to.

"'Moving them out'?" Fiyero repeated incredulously. "These are encaged Animals, for Oz sake!"

Everyone, the soldiers as well as the vagabonds, stood around uncertainly. "So," said one of the soldiers finally, "what exactly do you want us to do?"

Fiyero sighed, exasperated. "Set them free! And arrest these men for kidnapping."

Now all of his men were giving him "the look."

"Do it now or risk dishonorable discharge," he threatened. That got everyone moving. The owner, obviously distraught at the sudden loss of his lucrative business, was in no mood to make the soldiers' task easier and claimed that he had lost the keys. They were thus forced to move from cage to cage, breaking each lock with the hilt of their swords.

Fiyero watched this, for the first time feeling the slightest relief from his building anxiety. Finally, he was doing _something_. Perhaps not exactly what he wanted to do, but still…he was able to create some order for himself out of all of the chaos he had been experiencing. Even though he hadn't yet found her, he was able to do something of which he knew Elphaba would be proud.

"Holy shit!" One of the soldiers suddenly exclaimed from across the tent, as he peered into one of the cages. "Check it out," he said to his companion with a smirk, "this joint's got both Animals and vegetables."

The second soldier approached the cage and his eyes widened. He regarded the younger soldier reproachfully, then turned and called to Fiyero. "Your Highness! You should probably see this."

Fiyero strode across the tent. "What is it now?" He stepped in front of the soldiers and turned toward the cage in question.

His heart dropped to his feet.

No one spoke for a moment. Finally, the younger soldier broke the silence. "What should we do, Your Highness?"

"Break the lock," Fiyero responded. His voice was hollow. "Now."

They obeyed, and Fiyero crawled inside the cage, which was slightly larger then most of the others. He forced himself to ignore the stench that pervaded the small space—he thought it would kill him if he contemplated it too much. If he thought about any of this too much—what he saw, what he smelled, what it all meant, he might break down. He couldn't afford to do that; later, maybe, but not now. Now, he couldn't think…he just had to _do_.

So he crawled toward the figure, huddled and unmoving in a back corner of the cage. Her back was to him, the light was dim, and she was covered with grime and incredibly, heartbreakingly thin, yet somehow, he knew.

He had found her.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: You guys are so awesome. Thanks for all the reviews! They really do keep me motivated--I love hearing what everyone thinks of this idea that popped into my head, and has grown and taken on sort of a life of its own.**

**Anyways, a bit of a warning. The next few chapters are pretty dark. Things are not happy right now. So...yeah. You've been warned.**

**Wicked isn't mine.**

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_So he crawled toward the figure, huddled and unmoving in a back corner of the cage. Her back was to him, the light was dim, and she was covered with grime and incredibly, heartbreakingly thin, yet somehow, he knew._

_He had found her._

"Elphaba?"

There was no response. She showed no sign of hearing him enter her cage, or call her name.

He touched her shoulder. She visibly flinched.

"Fae? It's okay, it's me. I'm gonna get you out of here, okay?"

Still, she was silent. He picked her up easily. She weighed nothing, and he added that to the list of things he wouldn't allow himself to think about right now.

He carefully maneuvered out of the cage. He looked down at her, the light revealing her features more clearly.

The knot forming in his stomach tightened when he saw her eyes. He was reminded of the Wolf's dull, vacant stare. The only humanistic variation he could see in Elphaba's eyes were flashes of raw fear commingled with deep, penetrating sorrow. She didn't meet his gaze.

"Everything's okay now," he murmured, although not sure whether his purpose was more to sooth her or himself.

Without taking his eyes from her, Fiyero ordered the two soldiers standing near him to ready a carriage. They looked at one another, not sure whether they should point out to him that they were in the middle of nowhere, where renting a carriage might be somewhat of a challenge.

However, noticing his intensity as he examined the girl in his arms, they feared his reaction should they make this observation. Instead, they decided to creatively problem solve, and went outside to commandeer one of the wagons.

He followed them, careful not to jostle Elphaba as he was uncertain whether she had any injuries. He passed Avaric on his way out of the tent. "I need you to have a physician meet me at Kiamo Ko," he said. The last thing he needed was the questions and meddling of his parents, should he arrive at the other castle with Elphaba.

"You're taking her to Kiamo Ko?" Avaric asked, mystified. He was not as wise as the first two soldiers, who had decided against questioning the prince.

"Yes," Fiyero responded gruffly. "Do it. I want him waiting there when we arrive."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Fiyero stepped into the wagon. The older of the two soldiers had thoughtfully supplied it with a few saddle blankets, and was seated at the front, waiting and ready.

"Kiamo Ko," Fiyero said. "Quickly."

The soldier nodded wordlessly, and urged the horses forward.

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"She's dehydrated, and severely malnourished," the physician told him quietly, having finished examining Elphaba moments before. "There's fluid on her lungs, most likely due to exposure to the elements for an extended period. She appears to have been abused over a number of years—her ankle and a rib were broken some time ago, and never healed properly, and there are healed scars on her back suggestive of old lash marks."

Fiyero interrupted him. "What do I do?" he asked huskily. He couldn't bear to hear anymore—he only knew that he needed to _fix_ this.

"Try to get her to drink and eat—go slowly, starting with broth. And a hot bath with steam may succeed in loosening up the congestion in her lungs." He paused. "Other than that…we must simply hope for the best. Even if she survives her physical injuries, she may never recover psychologically from whatever she's endured."

Fiyero ignored the implication of the physician's last words. Instead, he told the old man he would need him to stay in Kiamo Ko with them for the foreseeable future, and then ordered Avaric, who had accompanied the physician, to prepare a bath in the room where he had settled Elphaba.

While waiting for the bath to be readied, Fiyero filled a glass with water and approached Elphaba. He set the glass down on the nightstand, and sat at her bedside.

She was facing the window, gazing out at a full moon.

"Elphaba…I brought you some water. Let me help you sit up." He reached for her, but at his touch, she seemed to shrink further into herself.

"I…I'm not going to hurt you. You have to drink something, though. The doctor says you're dehydrated." He placed an arm behind her back and lifted her gently, feeling her stiffen. Placing a pillow behind her, he removed his arm and offered her the glass.

She turned away.

He hesitated, not sure what to do. "Elphaba, please." His desperation—his need for her to allow him to help her—was palpable.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the pillow. Her refusal didn't seem adamant, but rather apathetic. As though she was so unused to any display of kindness that she didn't know what to do with it. Or perhaps she was so lost within herself that she couldn't see him there, couldn't feel how desperate he was to reach her, somehow.

Avaric finished readying the bath and lingered at the door. "Will that be all, Your Highness?" He paused. "I apologize…I didn't think to bring a maid from the other castle to assist with the more…delicate needs the young lady might have."

"You're dismissed, Avaric," Fiyero responded, knowing the other man would find his behavior rather inappropriate but not caring. After pausing another moment, Avaric closed the door behind him.

Fiyero hesitated, watching Elphaba quietly. If she wouldn't so much as accept water from him, he doubted she would allow him to help her bathe. Still, he had to try…

"The doctor…" he started again. "He said a hot bath would help you to breathe more easily. I—I can help you get to the bath, if you'd like." Offhandedly, he thought how strange this all was. Less than forty-eight hours ago, they had made love, reveling in the glory of each other's nakedness. Now he was embarrassed to ask her whether he could help her undress for the purpose of bathing.

She didn't respond. He sighed, and assumed that she would soon make it obvious whether his assistance was unwelcome. He began to unbutton her dress, and the dirty garment, old and riddled with holes and tears, practically fell apart in his hands. She sat there stoically, unmoving, neither resisting his help nor clearly acquiescing to it.

His breath caught once he had removed the dress. She was, indeed, painfully thin. He could count her ribs, and her collarbone and shoulder blades stood out unnaturally. He saw the faded yet angry red lines that crisscrossed her back. Again refusing to focus on any of this (although that was becoming more and more difficult), he again placed one arm behind her bare back, and another beneath her knees. He carried her to the bath and gently slid her into the warm water.

He sat on the floor next to her, not sure what to do. Finally, not expecting an answer, he asked her, "Would you like me to wash your hair?"

His expectation was met. Nevertheless, he cupped his hands, and carefully poured water over her scalp. Seemingly unconscious of doing so, she leaned back slightly, accommodating his efforts. He gently ran his fingers through her hair, working out tangles and rinsing away weeks—or was it months, or years?—of dirt and blood.

He became so focused on his task that it took him a moment before he noticed.

She'd begun to cry. Her eyes were closed, and silent tears disappeared into the water below.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks again, all, for all your kind words and insightful comments. I promise, all your questions will eventually be answered.**

**Warning for last chapter goes double for this one. And Wicked's not mine.**

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Most people's nightmares were surreal, grotesque distortions of reality.

Elphaba's nightmares were her memories.

She never slept dreamlessly. And her dreams were almost always nightmares. Tonight was no different.

_She was nearly nine when she was sold to the third traveling fair. Although still resistant to viewing herself as a commodity, Elphaba had found something to be at least slightly optimistic about with regard to changing owners._

_Maybe this one would slip up. Do something stupid. Give her an opportunity._

_To escape._

_And this one did. Elphaba concentrated on paying attention to his habits, and quickly noticed his affinity for alcohol. Every night, he would drink himself into a stupor. Usually, he would then stumble over to her cage and taunt her cruelly for a while. He would remind her of her worthlessness to everyone but him…and to him, her only value was as a freak._

_She ignored this, concentrating instead on the ring of keys hanging out of his front pants pocket._

_That night, he had laughed too hard at his insults, leaned too far against her cage, and they had fallen to the dirt floor below._

_He hadn't noticed, and had soon after left for his adjacent tent, to fall into a drunken slumber._

_Smiling for the first time in a year and a half, Elphaba had reached through the bars and grasped the keys._

_It was almost too easy…_

_She'd unlocked her padlock, and then quietly moved around the tent, unlocking those of the Tiger, Owl, Goat, and Pig. She moved to the last cage, the smallest in the tent, which held the Bear Cub._

_The owner had killed its mother and made Elphaba care for it until it no longer needed to be bottle fed. She never let on how much she enjoyed the task, or the companionship that came with it, for fear that the owner would take away the only small pleasure she had._

_With a small smile, she unlocked the last padlock and quietly opened the door, taking the small Cub, only recently weaned from the bottle, into her arms._

_Then, she ran._

Elphaba moaned in her sleep, and shifted restlessly. She'd had this dream—lived through this memory—so many times before.

_Elphaba had run out first with the Bear Cub, and the rest of the Animals followed wildly, uncertain of what to do with their freedom. In their frenzied mass exit, they had not accounted for the fact that the tent was smaller than many used by the owners of traveling fairs. They crowded at the door flap, and in their push to leave, they hit the supporting beams and the tent came down with a crash of wooden poles against empty metal cages. They scattered, disappearing into the night._

"_What—what the hell?" The noise would have woken a town, and was certainly sufficient to awaken the inebriated owner._

_Elphaba gasped and ran harder, her heart beating in her ears. She heard him mount his horse, as he screamed after her, "You did this, didn't you, you little bitch!"_

_In moments, he was upon her, lifting her by her hair onto the horse. She screamed and twisted in his grasp, but it was no use. With horror, she realized she still held the Bear Cub in her arms. She contemplated dropping it, but worried that the fall would kill it. Besides, the owner was right there…he wouldn't let it escape._

_As they rode back to the remnants of the fair, he hissed at her, his breath reeking. "Do you know what you've done? How much you cost me with this little stunt?"_

_She remained silent, tears pricking her eyes. She'd been so close…_

_Then they were back, and he'd thrown her from the horse, then started kicking wildly and screaming at her. "You're gonna pay for this, you know that? You're gonna be my one-freak show! It's all on you, now, you stupid, worthless little…" He'd trailed off, and pulled a cage from the shambles of the tent, throwing her in it._

_Suddenly, an eerie calmness overtook him. He turned to the Cub, who was frozen, watching Elphaba fearfully. He drew his gun._

"_No.." Elphaba whimpered._

"_This is on you, too," the owner said to Elphaba, with a dangerous, cruel smile. He fired a shot. The Cub slumped to the ground._

"_No!" Elphaba screamed, sobbed. She couldn't tear her eyes from the body of the Cub. "No…no…" The sobs shook her small frame. She retched. _

"_See what happens when you try to get smart?" He had said, before turning and walking away._

_Elphaba hadn't slept that night. She'd lain awake, crying silently, staring at the little Cub, wishing she could tell him how sorry she was._

_After that, the owner had made good on his threat to make her his sole attraction. He had frightened his audience with stories of how she shed her skin and could turn into a lizard. He let them throw things at her, poke her with sticks. He became quite an angry drunk, and his nightly insults were accompanied with regular beatings._

_But she never again tried to escape._

* * *

Fiyero awoke with a start in the middle of the night, to a horrible, gut-wrenching sound. A scream that tapered off into sobs, an indescribable combination of terror and soul-crushing melancholy.

In moments, he was at her bedside. She cried out and tossed about restlessly in her sleep, her face streaked with tears.

He shook her gently, but with an urgency—he couldn't bear to hear her in such distress.

She woke, and stared at him, her eyes wild and unseeing, her breath coming in fast, uneven gasps. Suddenly, she scrambled to the other side of the bed and off of it. Fueled by terror-born adrenaline, she unevenly stumbled to the window, and began beating and clawing at it desperately.

He hesitated, not sure what she was doing…what he should do to make it better. He went to her and gently grabbed her arms, pulling her away from the window. "Elphaba, stop, okay? Stop this. You're going to hurt yourself." He spoke to her evenly, gently, praying to the Unnamed God that he would get through to her.

But his attempt to calm her seemed to have the opposite effect. She wrenched away from him with a panicked sob and fell to her knees, then backed herself into a corner of the room. Her sobs grew in intensity, her breaths came it short, frequent, wheezing gasps, and she began to have coughing fits. At every attempt that Fiyero made to come near her, her panic increased, until he feared she would hyperventilate.

Finally, at a loss, he called for the doctor, irritated that the old man hadn't heard them and come already. "We need some help, here!" he yelled out, his voice cracking.

To his credit, the doctor was there right away. He moved swiftly toward Elphaba and plunged a syringe into her arm. Within moments, she'd visibly relaxed, and her breathing became even. Fiyero was able to lift her back into the bed.

"Why don't you get her a glass of water?" The doctor suggested. Grateful to have some direction amongst all of this, Fiyero obliged and left the room.

When he returned moments later, he frowned at the change in Elphaba. Only moments ago, she had been calm, but now, she was trembling and moaning, despite the sedatives.

Fiyero soon recognized the source of her distress. Soft restraints limited her ability to move her arms.

"What is this?" He asked the doctor angrily as he moved to release her from the restraints. "What's wrong with you? Were you not told she was found locked in a cage? How in the hell is this appropriate?"

"Now, wait a moment," the other man responded, irritably. "These are for her own safety, Your Highness. She's quite obviously disturbed. She could easily harm herself, or you."

"I think I can take care of myself," Fiyero responded dryly, having to restrain himself from jumping over the bed and throttling the old man. "And her," he added quietly. "You're dismissed."

The doctor hesitated, then left the room, shaking his head.

* * *

Fiyero wasn't sure how long he sat by her side, only leaving briefly to procure large cups of coffee. He didn't dare sleep—he wanted to ensure his ability to bring her out of the nightmares that troubled her so much before she had gotten too deeply into them.

After a time—he wasn't sure how long, exactly—he was startled by a knock.

"Your Highness?" Avaric's voice came hesitantly through the door.

"I don't wish to be disturbed," Fiyero responded gruffly.

"I…I understand, Your Highness, but…well, Miss Galinda arrived a few moments ago. She wishes to speak with you."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thanks again for the great reviews! Hopefully this chapter will answer a question that many of you seem to have...**

**Not mine.**

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_"I don't wish to be disturbed," Fiyero responded gruffly._

_"I…I understand, Your Highness, but…well, Miss Galinda arrived a few moments ago. She wishes to speak with you."_

Fiyero did not hesitate before responding. "I don't want to see her," he said curtly. He didn't want to see anyone right then. Over the last several hours, his vigil over Elphaba had him increasingly concerned. She had continued to refuse any proffered food or water, and her breathing had become considerably more labored, frequently interrupted by long, painful sounding coughing fits that left her gasping for air. She had also developed a high fever, which the doctor (who Fiyero had finally grudgingly allowed back inside the room) had determined stemmed from the illness in her lungs.

"Very well, You Highness," Avaric responded from behind the door.

However, in moments, he was back. "Um…I'm sorry to disturb you again," he said hesitantly, "but she's rather insistent on speaking with you."

"And I'm rather insistent on _not_ speaking with her," Fiyero responded angrily. "That will be all, Avaric."

And yet, the other man persisted. "She says I'm to tell you that she believes you," he said, obviously uncertain at the meaning of that message. "And that she has something to tell you…regarding Miss Elphaba."

Fiyero knew that Glinda wasn't above lying in order to get her way. However, he couldn't risk refusing to see her if there was a chance, however small…

"Send her up," he told Avaric.

Moments later, a distinctively dainty knock sounded at the door. He went to it wordlessly, and allowed her in.

"Fiyero," she acknowledged him, her tone even. "I thought perhaps you were here, when I couldn't find you at the other castle." She wouldn't meet his eyes.

When she finally looked up, she immediately caught sight of the woman in the bed.

"Oz," she breathed.

Fiyero waited with baited breath. If she said anything, made any rude observations, cracked any of the early-Shiz Galinda-esque jokes at Elphaba's expense, he wasn't sure he could be trusted with his actions.

But as he watched her, he soon realized there was little risk of that. Curiosity was evident in her gaze, but the malice or derision he had half-expected was replaced by sympathy, and something akin to regret.

"We…we were friends, you said?"

He nodded. "So you believe me, then."

"I do," she responded quietly. Then, after a moment, "Where did you find her? How?"

So he told her the story—a quick version, as he couldn't bear to relive all the details. "I don't understand it, Gl..Galinda. None of this make sense. I don't know why she was there. I don't know what happened to her. I don't…I don't know how to help her," he finished brokenly.

She was silent for a moment, then shook her head. "That bitch," she finally muttered darkly.

"What?" he snapped, surprised, angry.

"Not _her_," she responded irritably, gesturing toward Elphaba. "Madame Morrible. All of this is her fault. She did this."

"What? Did…what exactly? And how?" His confusion was reaching its pinnacle.

"I just came from the Emerald Palace," she told him. "My family had an audience with the Wizard—something about my father's campaign to raise funds for the Gillikin military. Anyway, I overheard Morrible talking to the Wizard. I stopped to listen, because she mentioned your name."

"My name?"

She nodded. "She was talking about you and Nessarose, and how you two were talking at the Dignitaries' Consortium about an old enemy of hers and the Wizard's. He sounded concerned, but she reassured him that he had nothing to worry about. That she had taken care of 'Elphaba.' And that she was certain that there was nothing you could do to…well, to undo what she did."

"And what…what exactly did she do?" He asked hesitantly. He needed to know in order to help Elphaba. Yet he was terrified at the thought of what the answer might be.

Galinda continued softly. "She did a time-travel spell, and went back to Elphaba's childhood." She paused. "She convinced her father to sell her to some sort of…traveling fair."

For a moment, Fiyero couldn't trust himself to speak. When he did, he didn't recognize his own voice. "How—how old was she?" he asked.

Galinda could not meet his gaze when she responded. "Seven," she said quietly. "She was seven."

"Oh—Oz." His words came out in a choked whisper. His legs no longer supported him, and he slid down against the wall.

Glinda knelt down beside him, and placed a hand on his knee. "Wait, Fiyero…there's more."

"I'm not sure I can hear anymore," he managed.

Glinda pressed on, gently but firmly, determined that he should hear the rest of what she had heard. "Despite her reassurances to the Wizard, Morrible eventually admitted that she was concerned that there was something she may not have considered."

"What?"

She hesitated. "Ordinarily, when someone goes back and changes the course of time, the people affected wouldn't have any memory of how things used to be, of who they used to know. But with soul mates, all bets are off." She raised her eyes to meet his. "Morrible didn't realize just how much you and Elphaba meant to one another. Nothing she did in the past could make you forget the other half of you." She finished quietly, with a sad resignation.

But Fiyero didn't notice. His mind was racing at this latest piece of information. "But that doesn't make sense. If that's how this works, wouldn't Elphaba remember me?"

Glinda turned to regard the woman lying in bed who was still as death, her eyes fixed to the window and the rising and falling of her chest infrequent and nearly imperceptible. "I'm not sure we can know what she remembers—what she thinks of," she responded softly.

Fiyero blinked twice and drew a shaky breath. Glinda was right. If all that had been changed in Elphaba's past had been his presence in it, their reunion would have rectified everything. But Morrible had done more than just take Elphaba _from_ _him_. With her actions, she had taken _Elphaba_, leaving behind a shell of the vibrant, fiery, amazing woman that he loved. That he desperately missed.

"I have to fix this," he said, his voice rough with unshed tears.

Suddenly, he felt Glinda's small, soft hand in his own. "Then I'll help you."

He looked at her, surprised. "What? How?"

"I do have some talent in sorcery, you know," she said, with gentle mock annoyance. She caught herself. "Or maybe, you don't. Morrible was adamantly opposed to enrolling me in her sorcery seminar, so I finally enrolled in a sorcery correspondence course a couple of years ago." She shrugged. "I only learned a few spells, but time travel was one of them. The basic spell is simple enough, although there are a lot of little kinks, rules, exceptions…" She glanced at him worriedly. "I never learned all of them. I can't be positive where exactly in time you'll be sent, or how long you'll be able to stay. This whole thing will be sort of…approximate. But I'll do my best, if you want to give it a shot," she finished lamely.

He fixed his gaze on her. "Why are you doing this, Galinda?" he asked softly, the gratefulness palpable in his tone.

She paused, and glanced back at Elphaba. "Because," she said softly, "whoever she is—was—no one should have to endure something so horrible." She hesitated, not quite meeting his eyes. "And because…I love you, Fiyero. I want you to be happy. Even if it's not with me."

He smiled at her. "Thank you, Galinda. So much."

She nodded briskly, refusing to become emotional. "All right then, let's do this. Take my hand," she instructed.

He complied, and she closed her eyes, muttering words that he couldn't understand. In mere moments, she opened them again and looked at him expectantly. "Well?"

"What? What's supposed to happen?"

She reddened slightly. "I…I'm not sure exactly. I know you're supposed to go back, but I'm not sure how the present you is supposed to know that…if it's supposed to be obvious to you now, or…" She shook her head, tears springing to her eyes. "Oh, Fiyero, what if it didn't work? I mean, I think you're supposed to be able to see some change, or feel something." She sighed. "I'm so sorry."

He tried to swallow his disappointment, but it was nevertheless evident in his tone. "You tried."

Suddenly, she shook her head with new determination. "No. That's not good enough. I still have the materials from that course somewhere. I'll go home, find them, and come back tomorrow. Who knows—maybe this whole time travel thing will kick in later, and we won't need to try again? But if not, I'll be back, and we'll get this right." She took both his hands in hers, and met his eyes. "I promise."

He nodded. He wasn't sure that he was very confident of Glinda's sorcery skills, but her effort did mean a great deal to him.

She turned to leave, and then stopped. She went to Elphaba's bedside, and gently rested her hand on the other woman's shoulder. Elphaba showed no sign that she was even aware of Glinda's presence.

"Everything's going to be okay," Glinda said softly, to the dear friend that—in this life—she'd never known. Fiyero found himself surprised and touched by this Galinda. He had underestimated her.

* * *

After Glinda had left, Fiyero resumed his post at Elphaba's side and took her hand. As the effectiveness of Glinda's sorcery was questionable at best, Fiyero's worry over Elphaba's rapid turn for the worse was far from alleviated. A sheen of perspiration was noticeable, and her breaths, rare as they were, came in ragged, uneven gasps.

And then, suddenly, she looked at him. With the fever, her eyes were unhealthily bright, but it was undeniable—for the first time since he had found her, she was looking at him. Not past him, or through him.

For the first time, she saw him.

"Fiyero," she rasped, her voice hoarse with illness.

For a moment, he thought he was becoming delusional himself. "Elphaba? Fae?"

She smiled ever so slightly, although it didn't—couldn't—reach her eyes. She swallowed, speaking an obvious effort for her. "Sometimes…I dreamed of you."

He squeezed her hand. "Did you?" he asked huskily, his voice laden with unshed tears.

She nodded. "I did." She began to cough, and fought for air. She won one, last, deep breath.

And then, she was still.

He called her name frantically. He called for the doctor, who upon seeing her, sadly shook his head. Finally, he broke down, sobbing, cursing everything in this awful new world…a world in which there was no longer anything for him.

Suddenly, that world went black.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hi, everyone! Sorry for the delay--work's been crazy and I've had a little writer's block. Anyway, thanks so much for the reviews--they're more helpful and encouraging than you know! **

**Of course, I don't own Wicked.**

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_He called her name frantically. He called for the doctor, who upon seeing her, sadly shook his head. Finally, he broke down, sobbing, cursing everything in this awful new world…a world in which there was no longer anything for him._

_Suddenly, that world went black._

Fiyero woke with a pounding headache. Within seconds, everything came rushing back to him, and he willed himself to stay asleep. There was no reason for him to wake, to move, to do anything else. Not now. Not anymore.

But sleep wouldn't come. Eventually he allowed himself to open his eyes.

He saw stars. Literally. He was laying outside. It was winter, and a blanket of snow covered the ground. But Fiyero was warm, because he was in a…sleeping bag? _What the—_

He turned to his left and saw several boys, all around the age of twelve, all also asleep in sleeping bags. He recognized the boy to his immediate left as Dalik, the only son of a governor of one of the Vinkan provinces, who Fiyero had known—and intensely disliked—during his time as a survivalist scout. All male children of Vinkan nobles had to take part in survivalist groups, an experience that culminated in a month-long, solitary trip out in the Vinkan wilderness. It was a right of passage.

A right of passage completed when one was twelve or thirteen.

Fiyero brought his hands to his face. They were not the hands of a grown man.

Galinda, he realized with a grin, had succeeded.

_But what now?_

* * *

The answer came sooner than he had expected. That morning, the boys were separated into groups and sent out to gather kindling. Fiyero was paired with Dalik and Piq, a skinny, nasally boy who wasn't much use when it came to anything associated with survival.

As the boys searched for firewood, they saw a sign that had been driven into the ground. It read, "Gorgus's Marvels and Freaks" and bore an arrow pointing to the right.

"Look!" said Dalik, pointing. "There's the tent! We should go!"

As soon as he had seen the sign, Fiyero had planned to sneak off to the tent after everyone had gone to bed that evening. He wasn't sure he wanted company. However, if the others were going to make a trip out there, he certainly wasn't going to stay behind.

"Master Bedit would never allow it," said Piq. "Plus, we haven't any money."

"I have enough," Fiyero piped up.

"For all three of us?" The first boy asked, incredulous.

"Sure," Fiyero shrugged, hoping he wasn't raising any suspicions by sounding more eager than the others. "It's worth it…I'm so bored." He added, trying to be convincing.

"Alright then," Dalik said with a grin. "Bedit'll just think we're still out here collecting kindling. He's so dense, he'll never suspect anything different."

"I don't know…" Piq said nervously.

The other two ignored him, and within minutes, all three had set off toward the tent.

* * *

As they approached it, Fiyero realized that the tent was significantly smaller than the one in which he had found Elphaba days ago (_or years later_, he thought wryly). He sighed, realizing that he had likely gotten up his hopes for nothing. After paying their entry fee, Fiyero despondently trudged in behind the other two boys.

There were only a few cages inside the dimly lit tent. The first confined a tiny bear cub (_Bear Cub?_ Fiyero wondered).

"Aw, look at it," said Piq.

Dalik rolled his eyes, and shoved the smaller boy out of the way. "It's puny, even for a cub," he said, unimpressed. He stuck a finger through the bars of the small cage, and poked it. It mouthed at his finger in response. Annoyed, Dalik stuck his face close to the bars, and emitted a deep, malicious, realistic sounding growl. The tiny animal cowered and whined. Smiling, Dalik made the noise again.

Fiyero was about to tell him to cut it out when someone beat him to it.

"Leave him alone," a voice said from behind them.

They turned. Fiyero's breath caught as he saw her, in a cage against the opposite tent wall. She was, of course, much younger—nine or ten, he estimated, if he was twelve. She was dirty, thin, and dressed in rags. They provided no protection against the brutal chill of winter, and her lips were tinted blue with cold. Yet, as she glared at Dalik, furious that he had frightened the little cub, the fire in her eyes reminded him of the Elphaba he remembered and loved. This little girl bore a much greater resemblance to _his_ Elphaba than did the broken woman he had found days ago.

Dalik whistled. "A green girl, huh? That's a first." He walked over to her, and suddenly his hand shot through the bars of her cage, grabbed her wrist and pulled it toward him, forcing her to brace herself against the floor with her other hand in order to avoid falling against the bars. "Bet you're not really green. The guy that owns this outfit probably painted you somehow, huh?" he asked, examining her hand in the dim light.

"Think whatever you like," she responded between gritted teeth. She jerked her hand back inside the cage. When he didn't release her wrist, she bit his.

His eyes darkened. "You're as stupid and wild as any of the animals in here. And I won't 'think whatever I like.' I want to know for sure. Are you really green, or aren't you?"

"How about you leave her be, Dalik?" Fiyero approached the other boy, his voice dangerously soft. He noticed Elphaba's eyes dart toward him, questioning and uncertain.

"How about you shut up, _Fiyero_?" The other boy responded. "I paid good money to see this freak," he continued, conveniently seeming to forget that it was Fiyero who had paid, "and I want to know whether I'm being conned." Without missing a beat, he turned toward the man in the top hat, who was standing lazily at the other end of the tent. "Do you hear that?" he shouted. "I think I'm being conned!"

The few other visitors to the fair murmured to themselves and looked in the direction of Elphaba and the boys. Sensing displeasure among his guests, the owner quickly approached the boys.

"What is this?" he asked irritably. "What do you mean, 'conned'?"

"This freak," Dalik said, gesturing toward Elphaba, "is fake. Probably just a regular girl, painted somehow. There's no such thing as a green person."

The owner smiled, his demeanor quickly changing. "Ah, another skeptic!" he said, loud enough for the other patrons to overhear. "Let me assure you, sir, my freaks are all quite authentic."

"Prove it," Dalik growled.

"My pleasure," responded the owner, still smiling.

Worried about where exactly this was going, Fiyero glanced toward Elphaba. She shivered and desolately watched the owner walk back across the tent. She seemed quite sure about, and resigned to, whatever was about to occur.

Within moments, the owner was back at their sides, carrying a large bucket of water. Without hesitation, the splashed the entirety of its contents on Elphaba, who yelped as the shock of cold water hit her already freezing body.

Dalik shrugged, unimpressed. "She's hard to see in there, anyway. I can't tell if that washed anything off or not."

The owner's smile wavered, as irritation crept back into his expression. "Alright, then. I want all my customers to be satisfied." With that, he unlocked the door to the cage, and yanked Elphaba out by the arm, holding her tightly. "Can you see, now? She's as green as a frog."

Dalik finally looked impressed. Other patrons also seemed intrigued. Some laughed and pointed, others murmured, amazed, still others seemed delighted and disgusted all at once.

Fiyero couldn't take his eyes from Elphaba. She stood before them drenched and shivering rather violently. Her eyes, cast to the ground, held a mixture of anger and humiliation.

Reveling in his guests' reaction to the little show, the owner turned his attention back to Elphaba. "Aw, don't hide your face, now, little lizard," he said. "Show these good people what they paid to see." With that, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back.

Suddenly, something in Fiyero snapped. All the plans that had been forming in his mind regarding the best, stealthiest strategy to free Elphaba flew out the window. He saw red, and all he knew was that he needed to get her out of here, away from this, _now_.

He ran toward the owner and kicked him, hard, in the groin, causing the man to lose his grip on Elphaba and fall to his knees.

"Fiyero, what the hell?" he heard Dalik exclaim from behind him, but he ignored the other boy.

All he saw was Elphaba, who was staring at him in shock.

"Run," he said to her.

After the briefest of hesitations, she ran toward the door flap, with Fiyero following close behind.

They had nearly reached it when a shot rang out.

They turned and saw the owner, who had recovered more quickly than Fiyero had bargained for.

And who now had a pistol leveled directly at Elphaba.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Aaagh! I know, I'm sorry! Long delay. I had a bit of writer's block, and have been out of town (saw Wicked again, so yay for that). If you're still reading, thanks! And it's still not mine.**

* * *

_"Run," he said to her._

_After the briefest of hesitations, she ran toward the door flap, with Fiyero following close behind._

_They had nearly reached it when a shot rang out._

_They turned and saw the owner, who had recovered more quickly than Fiyero had bargained for._

_And who now had a pistol leveled directly at Elphaba._

A hush fell over the tent, all of the fairgoers riveted to the scene unfolding before them.

After a moment, Elphaba spoke. "You wouldn't shoot me," she said quietly, a determined edge to her tone that seemed out of place for a nine-year-old. Only Fiyero was able to detect the flicker of fear in her eyes.

"Wouldn't I?" responded the owner, his voice dangerous.

Elphaba shook her head slightly. "I'm not worth much to you dead." Her casual reference to herself as a mere commodity made Fiyero wince.

"True," the owner acknowledged. "But you're not worth much to me if you run off, either." He paused. "So…what to do?" He mused mockingly.

Slowly, lazily, he shifted his pistol. Until it was aimed directly at Fiyero.

"How about this?" He continued casually. "Either you be a good girl and get back here, or your little hero suffers the consequences."

Fiyero felt a strange sense of calm. He realized with a sudden clarity that he would quite readily die where he stood, if it meant that Elphaba could be free and avoid all that he knew she would otherwise suffer.

He didn't want to be alive in a world in which she had been so thoroughly broken.

He felt her eyes on him, but didn't—wouldn't—look at her in that moment. He steeled himself against showing any sign of fear, and hoped that the fact that they had met only moments ago would make it easier for her to run. He prayed that she would value her freedom over the life of a stranger.

But he knew her better than that.

Slowly but deliberately, she started back toward the owner. Fiyero watched her, horrified. She stopped briefly, and their eyes finally met.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"Enough of this!" The owner grabbed her by the arm and roughly tossed her back in the cage.

"Elphaba!" Fiyero heard himself cry out, as the cage door slammed shut behind her.

She whirled around to look at him, her eyes wide. For a moment, the two children studied one another—him with a panicked desperation, her with confusion, curiosity, and something akin to a tentative hope.

Finally, softly, she broke the silence. "How—how do you--?"

"Out!" The owner interrupted. His gun was still in hand, and he waved it at the three boys. "All of you!" He then turn to face the rest of the crowd wearily. "In fact, everyone. Fair's closed for the day."

The man turned back to Fiyero, whose fellow scouts had already abandoned him. "Did I not make myself clear, boy?"

Fiyero knew he had to leave. The opportunity for escape had, at least for the time being, passed.

He wanted to convey to her, somehow, that he would be back. But she would no longer meet his gaze. Moments ago, he had refused to show her his fear of death, hoping to make it easier for her to run. Now, she was hiding her desire to be free...perhaps hoping to make it easier for him to leave.

So he stumbled out of the tent. But it wasn't easy. It was among the most difficult things he'd ever done. Once he made it several yards away, he collapsed to his knees and vomited into a pile of leaves, as the events of the last few days—losing then finding her, only to lose her again—finally caught up with him.

* * *

Several minutes later, Dalik and Piq met up with him again.

"You okay, Fiyero?" Piq asked. "What happened back there?"

"What, are you that stupid?" Dalik asked the first boy. "Wasn't it obvious?" He turned to Fiyero with a smirk. "You think your mama and daddy would be pleased if they knew that their little prince had a thing for a sideshow freak?"

Suddenly, Fiyero saw red. He hit Dalik again and again. The boy became to Fiyero, at that moment, everything and everyone who had hurt Elphaba throughout her lifetime. Her father who had despised her. The students at Shiz who had mocked her. Morrible who had relegated her once to the life of a fugitive, and then to a life of unimaginable abuse.

It was only when Dalik was on the ground, holding a broken, bloody nose, that Fiyero turned, jaw clenched, and walked away.

* * *

That same night, Fiyero abandoned survivalist camp, deciding to start his right-of-passage solo journey a little early. He cursed the rule that young men should learned to survive in the wilderness without a horse. It would make their escape much more difficult.

So, he returned to the tent on foot. Or rather, where the tent used to be.

All traces of the fair—of Elphaba—were gone.

* * *

Fiyero became like a man—or boy, as the case was—possessed. He kept telling himself she couldn't be far. It became his mantra.

Yet as days, then weeks, passed, his confidence faltered. He hated himself for his failure to find her, to track the fair's movement. If survivalist camp hadn't taught him that, then what the hell _had_ it taught him?

He couldn't sleep at night. He had nightmares of her. Like her nightmares, his were memories. Of her haunted, vacant expression. Of her dying in his arms.

He would waken, and remind himself of the little girl he had found, whose spirit hadn't yet been broken. He would find her.

He had to.

But for almost a month, he had no leads, and no luck.

Then suddenly, one night, he woke to what sounded like a stampede. Bleary-eyed, he stood and looked around, confused. He had camped out in a relatively quiet space that night, where his wildlife companions were likely to be, at most, squirrels or raccoons. Neither of which could cause the commotion he was hearing—multiple branches being broken off of trees and trampled underfoot, and multiple sets of hooves echoing in the quiet evening.

After a moment, he saw them running past. An unlikely group of animal companions, comprised of a giraffe, zebra, pig, and wolf. No. A Wolf. And one that Fiyero recognized.

With a speed born of adrenaline, Fiyero caught up with him. "Please, wait," he called out. "Please! Just tell me—where did you come from? Where is the tent?" The Wolf stopped and glanced at Fiyero nervously. A flicker of recognition was apparent in his gaze. He didn't speak, but after a moment, glanced behind him, then back at Fiyero meaningfully. And then, he was gone.

Fiyero began to run in the direction the Wolf had indicated. Suddenly, he heard a scream. And then another, intermingled with a loud, angry male voice.

Almost impossibly, his speed doubled.

The night was clear, and while still a good distance away, he spotted the owner, standing over something and kicking it with angry vigor. With a nauseating certainty, Fiyero knew the target of the owner's rage.

Almost unconsciously, he stooped down and picked up a large branch that had been torn down during the Animals' stampede, and continued running.

By the time Fiyero was nearly upon them, Elphaba had again been caged, and yet still she cried out, seeming to plead with the owner. Trying to take everything in while still running, Fiyero soon realized that the man was once again brandishing his pistol, this time at the small Bear Cub that had once been the object of Dalik's torment.

Just as the owner cocked his pistol, Fiyero's branch came crashing down on his head. The gun dropped from his hand, and the owner hit the ground, out cold.

For a moment, all Fiyero could hear was his own breathing, and his heart, which pounded in his ears. Suddenly feeling a bit unsteady, he approached Elphaba's cage. She looked up at him, eyes wide and still wet with tears, hair tangled with twigs and leaves.

"Hi," he said. Suddenly he felt a little shy, which seemed stupid, at this of all moments.

"You came back," she observed softly. "Who _are_ you?"

"Um...Fiyero," he responded lamely. Noticing that his introduction didn't seem to lift her confusion, he added, "I'll explain later. Now...well, now we should probably go." She nodded, and scooted back in the cage, allowing him to break the lock by swinging the branch at it. His approach was surprisingly effective, and after a few attempts, the lock broke.

He reached in and offered her his hand. She hesitated for a moment, seeming a little caught off guard by the gesture, then took it and moved to stand.

Suddenly she gasped, and crumpled back to the ground. "My...my ankle," she said shakily. "I think...I think it's broken." His jaw tightened. His anger at the owner was further intensified by this development, as was his anxiety about the potential success of their escape effort.

He looked around them in desperation, and suddenly noticed the owner's horse standing a few feet away. He took it's bridle and led it over to Elphaba. "Here, lean on my shoulder and I'll help you mount."

Her eyes widened, and she looked at Fiyero, horrified. "No!"

"What? Why?"

"He's a Horse," she explained. "We _can't_ ride him."

At that point, the owner groaned, and Fiyero began to panic. He loved Elphaba for her principles, he really did...but now, of all times?

He had an idea, and turned to the Horse. "Excuse me, sir. What's your name?"

The Horse regarded Fiyero with surprise, unused to being spoken to, especially cordially. After a moment, he responded with difficulty. "M-M-Milo," he managed.

"Well, it's good to meet you, Milo. I'm Fiyero," he said hurriedly. "And this is Elphaba. And I mean no disrespect, but we're in some trouble here, and could really use some help. Would you mind giving us a lift?"

"N-not at all," Milo responded.

Fiyero sighed gratefully, and turned back toward Elphaba. "Okay?"

She hesitated only a moment, but the owner groaned again, and showed some signs of beginning to regain consciousness. "Okay," she agreed. Then to the Horse, "Thank you, Milo."

Fiyero gently helped her up on the saddle, then started to mount himself. "Wait!" Elphaba said. He stopped, exasperated, anxious. "What now?" "Salki," she said, pointing at the Cub, who had been curiously watching all of the events unfold.

Quickly, Fiyero picked him up, deposited him in Elphaba's arms, and then seated himself behind her.

And they left the fair and its owner behind.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I know, I know, I'm sorry! Things have been unpredictable lately, and therefore so has my posting schedule. Forgive me? Still reading? If so, thank you!**

_And they left the fair and its owner behind._

They rode in silence for what seemed like hours, as Fiyero concentrated on finding a safe place to rest for the night. His previous camping ground was much too close to the now-empty fair tent and its owner for comfort.

It wasn't until Elphaba's head fell against his chest that he realized she had fallen asleep. He reached in front of her and rested his hand on the Cub's soft fur, ensuring its security atop the saddle while she slept.

Finally, he arrived at a clearing that seemed secluded enough to be safe. Reluctant to wake her, Fiyero gently shook Elphaba's shoulder.

She jerked awake. Her response was more than startled—it was that of someone who rarely had a peaceful slumber. Who was always, by necessity, alert.

The sudden movement caused the Cub to squeak in protest.

"Hey, it's okay…it's me, Fiyero, remember?"

There was a pause. "Oh."

"Um, I wanted to get us a good distance away from there…here will be safe, I think. For the night, I mean." He said awkwardly.

She nodded, but said nothing.

Fiyero slid off behind her, then reached up for the Bear Cub, and a second time for Elphaba. He lowered her carefully to the ground, mindful of her ankle, and supported her as she hopped over to a grassy spot where he helped her to sit.

"I saw a fresh stream a few yards back. I'll go get some water for everyone. Then I'll get a fire started and try to find some materials to splint your ankle."

The corner of her mouth turned up in a small smirk. "You really _are_ a boy scout, huh?" Her tone was mocking, but gently so.

He grinned, relieved and delighted that she was poking fun at him. "Um…well, yeah," he responded. "I'll be right back."

* * *

"This will probably hurt," Fiyero said apologetically. True to his word, he had taken Milo back to the stream to water him, and brought back several canteens, as well as some fruit and fish, for the rest of them. Now he was positioned in front of Elphaba, preparing himself to reset her ankle. He couldn't remember whether he'd learned how to do this as a Wilderness Scout or while in Gale Force basic training, but he was sure he knew how to do it.

Pretty sure.

"I imagine it will," Elphaba responded grimly, eyes closed and teeth clenched in anticipation.

Fiyero took a deep breath. "Okay. One…two…" He quickly snapped her ankle back into alignment, then splinted it with two slats of wood and the sleeve of his extra shirt.

"Not so bad, huh?" He asked hopefully.

"Easy for you to say." She did look a bit ashen. But then she smiled. "Thank you. Again."

He shrugged. "It's nothing."

"That's a lie," she argued quietly, her eyes darting away from him. "It's a lot. You knocked out an angry, armed drunk and rescued some freak and two Animals you don't even know."

"You're not a freak."

"Sure, because lots of people will pay to see perfectly normal kids in cages," she said, her sarcasm tempered with sadness.

Before he could respond, she caught him off guard with a question that he still wasn't exactly sure how to answer. "Why did you do it?"

He hesitated for a moment, then wondered if he could hedge her question for the time being with a simple answer. "Because you needed help."

Apparently he couldn't. "Yeah, well, I've 'needed help' for a while now, and you're the first to offer any," she said shyly. "So why?"

"Because I'm a good guy?" He tried. "You know, 'boy scout' and all that."

But she wasn't buying that, either. "Fiyero," she said, finally meeting his eyes, "you knew my name. How?"

He was running out of ideas. "I…I think the owner said it."

She was nonplussed. "He didn't. He doesn't even know my name."

Fiyero sighed. "Why does it even matter why I did it?"

Elphaba frowned. "Because…I…I want to know. I _need_ to know."

He studied her carefully and then it hit him. She didn't trust him, and she was afraid. He was hurt for a moment, but then realized how ridiculous that was. Of course she didn't trust him. Not too many people in her short life had proven themselves trustworthy. Or kind.

He sighed. "Look, I do know you, okay? And when I found you…well, I'd been looking for you. But if I tell you why, and how, there's no way you're going to believe me."

"Try me." She said stubbornly. Once again, he recognized her in that stubbornness, and had to work not to smile.

"Well…I knew you in the future." He paused, studying her reaction. She seemed surprised, but not yet totally disbelieving, so he went on. "We went to college together. We were…friends. But this awful teacher, a sorceress actually, had it in for…some of us." There was no point in telling Elphaba that Morrible hated her especially. "So she went back in time and screwed up our childhoods. I found out what had happened to you. And a mutual friend—also a sorceress—figured out how to send me back in time to try to fix it." He shrugged. "So…yeah…here I am."

She was silent for a long while. Finally she said, quietly, emotionlessly, "Time travel? Maybe. Someone like you being friends with me? Less likely. But where you really lost me? My father would never, in a million years, pay money to send me to college." She turned away from him. "Nice try, though. I'm going to sleep."

She lay down, and Fiyero sighed, at a loss for what he could say to her to prove himself. He had expected that if—no, when—he had rescued Elphaba, that would fix everything. She would know him—or, if not, they would become fast friends, they would grow up together, and then…well, the whole "happily ever after thing."

But then, when had Elphaba ever been predictable?


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Umm...hi? Anyone still out there? If you're still reading, you're amazing and I thank you. My super long hiatus that qualified me for a nomination in the "Dead" category in the fanfic awards (thanks StuckInSouthstairs and populardarling!) is now over. Although part of it was due to some writer's block that hasn't totally subsided...but I'll try very hard to not go quite so long between updates in the future. ;)**

* * *

Elphaba's sleep was fitful that night. Fiyero lay awake, watching her toss and turn, ready to spring into action should her restlessness become a nightmare.

At long last, he heard her sigh deeply, and she became still, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. Only then did he allow himself to drift off.

* * *

He woke the next morning to find her gone.

Frantically, he looked down at his hands, and was somewhat relieved to find that they were still the hands of a 12-year-old. So at least he hadn't flashed forward or backward to an Elphaba-less time.

But then, where was she?

His mind raced. What if the fair owner had tracked them, had taken her back? After everything they'd been through, had he not gotten her far enough away?

"Elphaba!" he called out, terrified. "Elphaba, where are you?" Still nothing. "Fae!" he slipped.

"Whose Fae?" He spun around to see her standing behind him, balancing on one foot and using a branch as a makeshift crutch.

He sighed in relief, trying to calm himself. "It's…" He shook his head. "Never mind. Where _were_ you?"

His question was harsher and more accusatory than he had intended, and she flinched and cast her eyes downward. He mentally berated himself—the last thing he wanted was to make her fearful.

"You got dinner last night," she said shyly. "So I got breakfast." She shifted to show him the berries that filled his canvas bag, which she had slung across her neck and shoulder.

"Oh," he responded. "Thanks, but…you didn't have to do that."

She shrugged, still not meeting his eyes. "Seemed fair."

He went over and took the bag from her, then helped her to sit down. "You could have fallen, though."

She rolled her eyes, her shyness dissipating. "Or I could have gotten lost. Or eaten by a particularly hungry wolf. But none of those things happened, did they?"

"Well, they could have," he replied sullenly.

She ignored him. "Berry?" she offered.

They ate in silence for a while, until Fiyero ventured, "We really should stay close, though. I think we lost the guy from the fair, but just in case. I mean, when you weren't here this morning, I thought that maybe…I was worried that…" He trailed off, but his meaning was clear.

He glanced over at Elphaba to find her watching him searchingly. "I still don't get it," she said finally, her tone a bit uneasy. "Why do you care? Why did you care then, and why do you care now? It doesn't make sense."

"I told you why," he said.

"And it doesn't make _sense_," she repeated emphatically.

He shrugged. "Believe what you want to believe, then."

The corner of her mouth turned up, ever so slightly. "I believe you're crazy."

He grinned. "Well, there ya go."

She giggled, and Fiyero's world seemed to shift back into place.

* * *

The rest of the morning was spent lightheartedly. The silences between them became companionable rather than awkward. Their conversation, when they did speak, was not as forced.

Fiyero's attention turned to the little Bear Cub when Elphaba offered him some of her breakfast. "So what's this guy's story?" he asked her.

He initially regretted his question, as he saw the light that had only recently come to her eyes begin to flicker. She pulled the Cub into her lap, and absentmindedly combed her fingers through his coarse fur.

"The fair owner shot his mother," she told Fiyero quietly. "He wanted a baby animal for his show. He didn't figure out he was an Animal until he'd already shot the mother and she…" Elphaba bit her lip. "…as she was dying, she called out for her Cub."

Fiyero started to speak, but stopped, sensing Elphaba needed to finish this story.

"His name's Salki. That's what his mother called him. I try to get him to speak, but he's not said anything yet. I think maybe it's because of the trauma of losing her…I don't know if he'll ever recover from it."

Her statement led Fiyero to suddenly and painfully recall the similar words of the physician at Kiamo Ko: _"Even if she survives her physical injuries, she may never recover psychologically from whatever she's endured."_

He firmly told himself that he need no longer think of that, no longer lament at losing that Elphaba. He would die before allowing this Elphaba to suffer anymore…to turn into her broken once-future self.

"We'll keep working with him," he said confidently. "I'll help you. We'll get him talking yet."

She smiled.

* * *

Dalik focused his binoculars in an attempt to find game for the evening's dinner. Of course, binoculars were illegal during a survivalist scout's solitary journey, but Dalik was undeterred. He'd be damned if he had to walk all over the forest, searching for food. Doing it this way was much easier.

Just as he began to curse his luck at not seeing anything to kill and eat, he found himself viewing something much more interesting—Fiyero and his little frog girlfriend.

_So he'd gone back for her, huh?_

Dalik still couldn't understand what that idiot could be thinking, beating him up and breaking his nose over _that_.

No matter. Fiyero would pay for what he'd done. And so would she.

The night's hunt forgotten, Dalek settled back to watch the pair.

And to wait.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Sadly, it looks like I've lost some of you. I guess that's what I get for abandoning this for such a long time. :( Anyway, I'm posting twice in one week as an apology of sorts. And, if you are still reading, please let me know what you think of where this is going! Your reviews mean a lot to me! **

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* * *

**

Fiyero left to find dinner in the early evening. He wanted to be back to Elphaba before darkness fell.

Once he had gone, she leaned against a tree, barely registering the roughness of its bark. She allowed her eyes to close and succumbed to her mounting fatigue, a product of the adrenaline that had coursed through her over the last two days.

Elphaba hadn't realized that she had drifted off until she was suddenly awoken.

"A free freak show? Guess it's my lucky day."

Her eyes shot open, and she immediately recognized the boy who had accompanied Fiyero to the tent that day. Who had frightened Salki, and caused the owner to prove her authenticity. She shivered involuntarily, remembering the ice cold splash of water.

"Although you're not as interesting the second time. I mean, sure, you're great for shock value at first, but after that…" He looked her up and down, then shrugged. "After that, you're just unpleasant looking."

"What do you want?" Her voice shook, which upset her. She didn't want him to know that she was afraid.

"I'd like to know why the frog's out of its cage." He said meanly, taking a step toward her.

Startled, she reflexively stood, forgetting about her ankle until intense pain shot up her leg. She gasped.

"Oh, come on," Dalik said mockingly. "Both of us know you're not going to run anywhere. Right?"

She bit down hard on her lip, unbidden tears threatening to fall. "Please…" she choked out. "Please don't take me back there."

He smirked and shrugged. "Wouldn't matter if I did."

She fought down panic. "What do you mean?"

"Fiyero 'saved' you from the fair, didn't he? I know he did—I saw him with you. Besides, I knew he planned do to that long before he actually did it." He paused. "Do you know _why_ he did it?"

She didn't respond, but watched him warily.

"Surely you don't think he did it out of the goodness of his heart? Or because he cared something about you? You can't be that dumb, can you?"

Elphaba's mind raced. "He—he told me…" she fumbled.

"Oh, I'm sure he told you lots of things. He had to get you to trust him so that you'd come with him."

"I don't understand." Elphaba's words came out as a frustrated sob.

"Well, let me spell it out for you in a way that your little freak mind can comprehend. Fiyero's father is the king of the Vinkus. Like everyone else, the royal family likes to be entertained. And as you may have figured out, freak shows are entertaining." He paused, letting what he had said sink in, until her eyes reflected the horror of understanding.

He continued. "The king promised Fiyero a magnificent stallion for his thirteenth birthday in exchange for a magnificently freakish freak, to add to the royal family's private collection. The king had heard about you, and thought it was absolutely perfect that your master's fair was near the survivalist scout camp." Dalik smirked. "I think Fiyero'll be getting his horse, don't you?"

Elphaba stared at him, horrified. "But he…he knew my name."

Dalik shrugged. He had forgotten about this detail, but quickly improvised. "We're talking about the royal family. They do their research, and they've had their eye on you for a while. Word's gotten around about the little green monstrosity."

She could no longer keep her tears from falling. "You're lying," she whispered brokenly.

"Am I?" he shrugged. "Well, I'll leave you to your knight in shining armor, then. And hey, look at the bright side—at least you'll have a few days to stretch your legs on your way from one cage to another. It'll be nice to get some fresh air." With that, he turned to leave her, delighted at himself.

"Wait!" she called out.

Surprised, he turned around. "What?"

She was visibly shaken, her eyes wide and wet with tears. "Will…will you help me?"

He smirked. "Are you serious?" He shook his head in disbelief. "I didn't think you could get any stupider. Why would I bother with helping you?"

"Pl...please!" She choked out.

He stared at her for a moment, his eyes cold and emotionless. "No." With that, he turned and walked away. He smiled to himself. He couldn't have hoped for that to go any better.

As she watched him go, Elphaba slumped to the ground. She found herself numb and unable to breathe. Her chest was tight, her breath came in gasps, her tears flowed freely.

Mingled with her fear was anger. Anger that she'd let herself hope that there was any chance for escape. It wouldn't have been so bad if she'd just stayed there…but to be free for a moment, and then have that taken away…it killed her.

The pain and terror she felt now was largely her own fault, though.

Because she had trusted him and let herself believe that he was different from everyone else.

She had so desperately wanted to believe that he didn't want to hurt her.

And she had been wrong.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Hope you all like this chapter! Please let me know your thoughts! And _Wicked_'s not mine (in case you were wondering).**

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* * *

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Elphaba didn't allow herself too much time to cry. It would do her no good.

After a few minutes, she took a deep breath and pushed herself up. She hobbled over to Milo, thinking to herself, bitterly, that at least Fiyero had been stupid enough to leave her the Horse. With much awkwardness, and not a little pain, she managed to hoist herself and Salki onto Milo's broad back.

"W-where would you like m-me to t-take you?" Milo asked her haltingly, still becoming accustomed to speaking.

"I don't know," Elphaba said hollowly. "Anywhere."

* * *

Elphaba wasn't sure how long they had ridden before dusk turned to complete darkness. A light rain began, turning the evening chill into miserable cold, and transforming the dirt beneath the Horse's feet into a slippery mud.

Elphaba was exhausted. The rhythm of the Horse's gait kept lulling her to sleep, and she jerked awake each time she felt herself beginning to slide.

Once again drifting out of consciousness, she failed to hear the rushing of the river until it was too late.

* * *

Fiyero cursed under his breath as he bagged the last of the speared fish. He hadn't noticed how quickly the darkness had descended. He should have been back long before now.

As he turned to trek back to the campsite, he caught a glimpse of something downstream that gave him pause.

A horse. No, a Horse. Carrying a small, feminine rider.

Fiyero watched, horrified, as she slipped off her mount, into the freezing waters below.

He began to run.

* * *

Fiyero dove into the icy river at the spot where he saw her fall. He had to come up for air three, four, five times before he saw her. He grabbed her and swam to the riverbank, clutching her limp form to him. It took him a moment to realize that the terrified, gasping sobs were coming from him.

He climbed out of the river and laid her on her back. She was pale as death in the moonlight, and as he placed a shaking hand on her chest, he realized with mounting horror that she wasn't breathing.

Terrified, he struggled to remember his survivalist scout first aid training. It had been easy enough to recall for the purpose of splinting Elphaba's ankle, but now, in the heat of the moment, his terror clouded his memory.

Desperately, he rolled her on her side and slapped her back several times, to no avail. He then placed her on her back again and pressed down on her chest, several times in quick succession. Finally, he tried to breathe for her.

_One of these _has_ to be right…_

Throughout his efforts, the Cub, who had tumbled off the Horse when Elphaba fell, grunted and whined, attempting to shove past Fiyero to the unconscious girl. Fiyero pushed the little Animal back, racking his brain for what else to do to revive Elphaba. Suddenly she began to cough, and he quickly rolled her to her side, allowing her to cough up the water she had inhaled.

He helped her sit up as she began to gasp for air.

"It's okay…you're safe," he said soothingly.

She glanced at him through wet lashes, hazel eyes hazily meeting blue.

Suddenly, her eyes widened, and she scrambled back from him.

"Don't touch me! Get _away_ from me!" The hysteria in her voice reminded Fiyero of the other Elphaba, who had been terrified by his presence upon awakening from her nightmare.

"Elphaba, please…I don't understand. What's going on?"

"Leave me _alone_!"

"Elphaba, I don't know what's wrong, but you need to let me help you. It's freezing, and you're soaking wet. If you stay here, you could die."

"I'd rather die," she said softly, her eyes distant and unseeing, a disturbing reminder of her future counterpart.

"What are you talking about?" He was frustrated in his concern, but made sure to keep a level, gentle tone.

"I'd rather be dead than caged again." A sob escaped her. "Please…please just let me die."

His heart broke for her. Her words would have been upsetting no matter their speaker, but coming from a nine-year-old they were rendered especially unsettling. "Elphaba, I promise…you'll never be put in a cage again. I won't let that happen."

Her eyes finally met his, and in them he saw a flash of rage intermingled with her fear. "Liar!" The accusation burst forth in a sob. "The boy you were with, the one at the fair...he _told_ me!"

"Dalik?" Fiyero frowned in confusion and concern. "When did you see him? What did he tell you?"

"Today, while you were gone," she answered shortly. "And he told me…why you took me." She swallowed, and shivered involuntarily. "What you really want me for."

"Elphaba, I don't know what you're talking about," Fiyero responded, his tone pleading. "I don't want you for anything. I only want to help you. That's all."

Elphaba wouldn't look at him. She hung her head, her wet, tangled hair shielding her face in a dark curtain. Yet he could hear the tears in her voice, as they fell unchecked. "I don't understand," she managed brokenly. "You didn't have to do this. You could have just stolen me from that fair and taken me to the one at your castle by force. It wouldn't have been hard—I couldn't have fought you. And I wouldn't have cared—cages are all the same, and I've never cared before when I've been sold by one owner to another."

She paused and drew a shaky breath. "But why did you have to pretend you were really going to help me?" She bit her lip. "Why did you do that?"

Nausea washed over Fiyero as he suddenly began to understand what Dalik must have told her. He thought back to how suspicious of him Elphaba had been over the past two days. How difficult it had been for her to believe that there was no ulterior motive behind his desire to help her escape, and how much effort it had taken her to begin to trust him.

Dalik had figured out exactly how to shatter that fledgling trust. To shatter _her_.

And if Fiyero ever saw him again, Dalik would not survive the encounter.

Fiyero forced back his rage at Dalik, keeping it out of his tone when he next spoke to Elphaba.

"He told you I was taking you to be put on display at another fair?"

Elphaba did not respond, but she shuddered, which was all the confirmation that he needed.

"Elphaba, I do live in a castle in the Vinkus. And I am taking you there…to help you. But there is no fair there. There are no cages. You can't possibly believe that Dalik was telling you the truth about all that."

"Sure, because your time traveling story was so much more believable," she spat.

He sighed. "I know it sounds crazy, Elphaba. If I were in your place, I'm not sure I would believe me, either. But if I were going to lie to you, wouldn't you think I would try to come up with something a bit more convincing?"

She didn't respond.

After a moment, an idea came to him. A last-ditch, questionable idea, but an idea nonetheless. "I can prove it. I can tell you something that I couldn't possibly know, unless you had told me."

She finally glanced up at him. Her expression was unreadable.

He hesitated, suddenly realizing how horribly this could backfire. But he was desperate to disprove Dalik's lie, and he didn't know any other way to do it.

He took a deep breath. "Your mother died giving birth to Nessa. And your father blamed you for her death."


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Finally, an update! I struggled with this chapter, and am still not sure how happy I am with it. Please review and let me know your thoughts! (It also helps to know that folks are still reading...it encourages me to become more disciplined about updating on a regular basis! :))**

**Note: After posting this, I edited the end...hopefully it's a little better now. :P  
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**Not mine.**

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_He hesitated, suddenly realizing how horribly this could backfire. But he was desperate to disprove Dalik's lie, and he didn't know any other way to do it._

_He took a deep breath. "Your mother died giving birth to Nessa. And your father blamed you for her death."_

He regretted his words the moment they left him. He wished Glinda's spell had some sort of "rewind" function, to account for his uncanny ability to mess things up, to fail to think things through.

Yet…what could he have done differently, really? What else could he have said to make her believe him? What else did he know of Elphaba's childhood? It wasn't as though there were many happy memories to choose from. He had to work with what she'd told him that night in the forest…the one night he 'd had with her before all of this.

"_You shouldn't be here." Her words had been soft, tentative, nearly carried away by the wind._

_She wouldn't look at him. Her eyes had always given her away, no matter how stalwart she strove to be…no matter how desperately she tried to steel herself against the world and all of its inhabitants, all hell-bent on her destruction._

"_Look at me," he'd asked, and she had. He had been afraid that, by the time he found her, her eyes would be hardened, that she would have shuttered even that window to her soul. But they weren't. They were tortured. She was afraid--terrified--and he knew it wasn't for herself._

"_Elphaba," he'd said softly. "I want to be here. With you. That's all I've wanted for the past three years."_

_She had been silent for a moment. "What about what I want?"_

_He was taken aback by the question, and by the anger in her voice. "What…what do you want?"_

_She sighed, protectively wrapping her arms around herself. "I want…I want you to be okay. To be safe, and happy with Glinda."_

"_But I'm not in love with Glinda," he'd interjected._

"_Fine, not with Glinda then," she'd snapped dismissively. "But happy with someone. Or happy by yourself. Whatever you want."_

_He looked at her incredulously. "You'd rather I be alone than with you?"_

"_I'd rather you be _safe_!" She burst out raggedly, her voice laden with unshed tears. "I'd rather you be _alive_! For once in my life, I'd rather not be the cause of unhappiness, or pain, or…worse, in someone I care about." She sighed shakily, studying her hands. "It seems like I've never had a choice before. Even when I've tried to do something good, it's backfired. Simply being around me, no matter what I'm doing, is dangerous." _

_She paused, and when she next spoke, her heartbreaking vulnerability tore at him. "For Oz sake, Fiyero, I killed my mother just by being alive."_

Coming back to himself, Fiyero watched her closely for a response. But there was none. Her hands were clasped together in her lap, so tightly that the white of her knuckles was visible.

"Elphaba?" he ventured tentatively.

"How could you know that?" she finally asked, choking on the question.

"I told you, Elphaba I—"

But she wouldn't wait for a response. More hysterically, more frantically, she repeated her question. "How could you _know_ that? Did _she_ tell you that? How do you know her?" Her questions came at him rapid-fire, her eyes wild.

Fiyero's heart sank. What he had said in an attempt to reassure her had only succeeded in making her more terrified. He had expected that his words might have upset her, but he'd never realized they would somehow frighten her.

"You told me, Elphaba," he responded gently. "No one else...I don't even know who you mean."

But even as he spoke, he knew she wasn't hearing him. She was so far away. Her fear, her panic had built a wall around her, and his efforts to tear it down had only fortified it. She stared at nothing, worrying her bottom lip and shivering.

"_Father!"_

"_No, Fabala, don't wake him up! We'll get in trouble!"_

_Elphaba acknowledged that truth, but ignored her sister all the same. "Father—please!"_

"_Wha--? What's going on? What are you doing, Elphaba?" His words slurred and his breath reeking of alcohol, Frex peered around her and noticed Nessarose in the background. "Nessie?" He looked back at his eldest, frowning. "What is this?"_

_Elphaba took a deep breath, and her words came out in a rush. "There's a Lioness at the fair. She spoke to me. And the man's keeping her in a cage!"_

_Frex's frown deepened. "The fair?" His voice was quiet, even…dangerously so._

_She nodded, frustrated that he didn't seem to comprehend the import of what she was telling him. "She's in a cage, Father! And the man whipped her! We have to do _something!_"_

"_Am I to understand that you went to the fair after I expressly forbade you from doing so?"_

_Elphaba's eyes widened. "But father, you told me to take Nessa, remem--"_

_Suddenly, he drew his hand back and slapped her, hard, across the face. She fell to the floor and looked up at him in shock, gingerly touching her cheek._

_He glowered down at her. "How _dare_ you take your sister to that pit of sin! You may not have a soul, but hers is good and pure. How dare you put it in jeopardy!"_

_Tears pricked at the little girl's eyes. "I…I'm sorry." His words made her feel sick and dulled the pain in her cheek._

"_I can't even trust you to take care of your sister. You're worthless, you know. No, worse than that—you're a curse. A pox on this house since the day you were born."_

"_I'm sorry," she whispered again. She'd always known her father disliked her. But for the first time, she realized the full extent of his hatred._

"_You should be. Go to bed." He turned to his younger daughter, his voice softening. "Nessie, I'll be up in a moment to tuck you in."_

_Late that night, Elphaba, who had laid in bed restlessly, was startled by a knock at the door. She frowned, listening. She heard Frex's rumbling, irritated voice, but couldn't hear the voice of the person to whom he was speaking. Suddenly, she heard Frex say her name. An inexplicable shiver made its way up her spine. Frightened, she crept out of bed and made her way to the top of the staircase. Hidden in the shadows, she peered down at Frex and the mysterious visitor._

_Now she could hear them more clearly. Frex was speaking to an older woman, a person she'd never seen before._

"_Let me take this burden from you," the woman had said. Her voice had made Elphaba feel inexplicably hot and ice cold all at once. "After all, you must look out for the well being of your youngest. With your wife gone, you need the time to devote to her, yes? After all, one man can only do so much."_

_Frex had hesitated. "But…Elphaba…what do you mean to do with her?"_

_Elphaba, from her perch on the stairs, suddenly couldn't breathe, as both she and Frex waited for the old woman's response._

"_Ah, my dear man," she had responded. "As sayeth the Unnamed God, 'what we do not know cannot hurt us.'"_

* * *

"Elphaba? We…" Fiyero faltered. "We should go back, okay? You're soaking wet."

She finally looked at him, her eyes hard, her countenance removed.

She shrugged and stood. "Fine." She paused, staring at the ground, and clenching her small hands into fists. When she spoke again, it was with effort, as though she were trying to reign in a number of emotions. As though she were trying to dull herself to everything around her…to make herself impervious to the scorn, derision, fear, and pain she was so certain were once again coming her way.

"I don't know how you knew that--about my mother," she said quietly. "And I don't care. Just, stop…doing what you're doing. Telling me the things you're telling me. I don't want to—I can't hear anymore." She drew a deep breath, and let it out in a resigned sigh. "Just do that, and…I promise I won't run away again. Okay?"

"Elphaba—" he tried once more.

"Okay?" she interrupted emphatically, finally meeting his eyes. Hers were wide and deep and full of tears threatening at any moment to spill over. The way her lip trembled and her voice shook suddenly reminded him of how young and vulnerable this Elphaba was, less able to hide her emotions than was her older counterpart.

Her inability to hope that he might be trying to help her drove home to him how hurt she had been by others in her past. Of course, he'd known this from the time they were at Shiz, but occasionally the reality of it, the severity, crashed into him, taking his breath away. And finally, Fiyero could think of nothing to counter her distrust. He only hoped he could reach her, somewhere along the way.

After all, assuming Galinda's spell would continue to work, they had nothing but time.

"Okay," he said.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Hi! I'm trying to be better about updating...the next chapter is pretty much completely written (in my head, anyway ;)). If you're still reading, please review and let me know your thoughts. I'm so thrilled whenever I see a new review...it keeps me coming back. :)**

**Thanks for reading! And Wicked's not mine.**

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"This is a ridiculous tradition," she said angrily.

The king sighed. "I know you feel that way, Mira," he said, in an effort to placate her.

She turned to face him, her eyes ablaze. "This has absolutely nothing to do with how I _feel_, Silam!" she countered. "Traditions like this idiotic 'coming of age' journey are the reason that the rest of Oz believes that the Vinkus is still so…primitive."

"Now just wait one moment…" he interrupted, beginning to become irritated.

"I will not!" she said. She paused and continued, trying to keep her tears in check. "Our son is out there, somewhere," she managed. "He should have been back over a month ago. But right now he's Lurline-knows-where, possibly lost, or injured, or…or…" The tears began to fall.

The king went to her and took her in his arms. She stiffened momentarily, but did not pull away.

"Fiyero has a good head on his shoulders," he told her gently. "He is fine. And several troops are combing the whole of the Vinkus to find him, in the unlikely event that he might be in need of assistance. One way or another he'll be back soon. I promise you that."

She wrenched away from him. "Don't make promises you can't keep," she responded tearfully, and then hurriedly left him for her chambers.

* * *

It had been nearly a week since Elphaba had spoken to him. She remained true to her word, and did not try to "escape" from him again. However, nor would she speak to him, or look at him. He kept telling himself that as soon as they got to the castle, things would be okay…she would see that he meant her no harm.

Of most concern to him was her current physical state. The day after she had fallen into the river, Elphaba began to develop a chesty, painful-sounding cough. This was accompanied by what Fiyero could only assume were chills, as she would frequently shiver against him while they were riding. It was also during these rides that he began to notice how warm she was, despite the chill in the air. He'd asked her how she felt, and was greeted only by silence.

The weather faced by the pair was particularly nasty on the day the soldiers found them. The sky had opened up shortly after they had begun that morning's journey, and they were soon riding through a downpour of rain. Fiyero had contemplated stopping, but quickly dismissed that idea, since they were currently on a vast plain, and there was no protective shelter to be found.

His heart pounded. He had reassured himself a number of times that Elphaba would feel safe and reassured once they'd reached the castle. But now, with the rain pelting the little girl who he could only imagine was quite ill, he began to worry that they might never reach the castle.

But then he saw them. A number of men riding up to them, their purple and blue uniform identifying them as members of the Vinkan military.

Fiyero smiled. They would be okay.

He felt Elphaba's quick intake of breath as she saw the approaching troop. He felt her shudder. "It's okay," he tried to reassure her. "They're from the castle." He immediately felt stupid—she was terrified of their destination. Anything hastening their arrival would most certainly not assuage that fear.

"Prince Fiyero!" One of the soldiers, a man he recognized as Tiram, rode up to them. "Thank Oz you are well!" He regarded Elphaba questioningly, but would not be so bold as to question his prince. He looked back to Fiyero. "We've brought a carriage. I realize that you are more than capable of riding back with us, but we thought perhaps that, given the weather…"

Fiyero smiled, grateful at the military's timely intervention. "A transfer to the carriage would be most appreciated, Tiram," he said. "I thank you."

He dismounted, and reached up to help Elphaba down. She hesitated. Even through the dense sheet of rain, Fiyero could see her wide, frightened eyes. He worried for a moment that she, still sitting astride the Horse, might bolt.

But she didn't. She reached down and handed him Salki, then allowed him to lower her to the ground. As he reached up and took hold of her, he realized that her shivering had increased tenfold.

It was no longer only the cold, or the fever, that was troubling her.

She was terrified.

He helped her and the Cub become situated in the military's waiting carriage and then entered it himself. As he looked out the window, he saw Tiram begin to lead Milo to the back of the caravan to be tethered. Fiyero jumped back outside, and ran over to them.

"Just a moment, Tiram," he called.

The soldier stopped, surprised.

Fiyero walked over to the Horse, and placed a hand on its shoulder. "You have been a great help to us, friend. You are of course free to go anywhere you like. I would welcome you to return to the castle with us though, if that is your wish. We would be happy to have you."

After a moment, the Horse spoke. "You have…have helped m-me as much as or m-more than I have helped you. If I…if I had not gotten away from that fair, I f-fear I would have been k-killed eventually. I am greatly in-indebted to you, and consider you and the little m-miss my friends. It would be my p-pleasure to accompany you."

Fiyero smiled. "That's wonderful. And just so you know, we're not too far now. Should be less than a half-day's trip." He turned and went back to the carriage. Tiram, having learned that the horse was a Horse and thus no longer required tethering, left Milo to himself. He rode to the head of the caravan, and blew his whistle, signaling the troop to begin their return to the castle.

* * *

Elphaba stared ahead with foreboding as the castle began to come into view. She clutched Salki to her, only realizing that she was squeezing the little Bear too tightly when he squeaked. Despite the blanket that she, with reluctance, had accepted from Fiyero and wrapped around herself, her shivering would not abate. Her breath came in short, fearful little gasps, that were frequently interrupted with a painful coughing fit. She saw Fiyero watching her, which managed to make her even more anxious.

Oh Oz, they were really close now. Approaching the gate, through the gate…her head spun, she felt sick, she could hear her heart hammering in her ears, and it seemed that little spots were dancing in and out of her vision…

She saw a woman run out into the rain, reaching the carriage as soon as it had entered the gates.

"Fiyero!" The soldier driving the carriage stopped as the queen threw open its door. "Fiyero…" she pulled the boy to her, hugging him fiercely, and berating him tearfully. "Oh, Lurline be praised, you're home! What took you so long? Do you _know_ how frightened I was? I thought you might be….oh, but it doesn't matter now, because you're not. Thank Oz, you're not."

She pulled back, and then Elphaba came into her line of view. The little girl watched the queen watching her, curiosity evident in the woman's gaze. Elphaba shook fiercely now, barely able to breathe, her heart and head pounding painfully.

"Who's this, then?" the queen asked.

In response, Elphaba promptly fainted.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Update time! Yay! I hope it's a "yay"--please let me know your thoughts!**

**Wicked's not mine.**

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Fiyero watched Elphaba worriedly as they neared the castle. The clarity of her terror was unsettling to him.

It wasn't as though he had never before seen Elphaba frightened. She'd been afraid of her own power the day she had accidentally magicked their Life Sciences class in order to free the Lion Cub. She'd been afraid of him when he'd led the Gale Force into the Wizard's chambers, before he'd had the chance to explain himself to her. She'd been afraid _for_ him after he had run off with her, embracing the life of a fugitive…her life…their life.

But during those times, though she had undoubtedly been afraid, never once had she allowed her fear to overcome her. Her countenance then had been like a taut string, stretched to its limits but never at risk of snapping. She had never allowed herself to show too much fear. To be anything but guarded, to show such weakness, would be dangerous.

But the little girl next to him lacked the maturity of her older counterpart. And it wasn't only that, Fiyero mused sadly. She had been treated abominably, sub-humanly, for the greater part of her young life. For her, it had not mattered whether she'd shown fear or put on a brave front. Bad things had happened to her continuously, every day, no matter what she'd done…no matter how she'd acted.

So he watched helplessly as the child-Elphaba stared ahead at the approaching castle, her frightened eyes wide and glimmering with unshed tears. He worried that she would make herself sick…well, sicker. Her fear seemed to hold her in a vice-like grip, leaving her unable to breathe, to control the severe spasms that were overtaking her small form. He wanted to do something to calm her, but he knew he couldn't. Because he was one of the many things that frightened her.

And it killed him.

Fiyero was temporarily distracted when he saw his mother run up to meet the carriage.

His mother…

Of course, it would make sense that she would be here, that he would see her…yet he wasn't quite prepared for the shock.

And then she was there, hugging him, worrying over him, angry with him but not really angry. Her whole being radiating warmth, and love, and a fierce protectiveness over those she loved.

How he had missed that…how he had missed _her_.

She pulled away from him and saw Elphaba. Before he could begin to explain how it was that he had returned home with a very thin, very ill, very green little girl, he felt Elphaba slump against him, unconscious.

The queen had reacted immediately. "Tiram, please take this little one to the infirmary." The soldier nodded, and Fiyero leapt from the carriage so that Tiram could reach in and retrieve her.

"As for you, young man," she continued, turning to Fiyero, "I think you have much to explain." She regarded her son sternly, but with the ever-present warmth and love she felt for her him dancing in her eyes.

* * *

Elphaba woke with a start. She quickly pulled herself to a sitting position, her eyes darting around the unfamiliar, stark white room. She didn't know where she was and wasn't sure how she'd gotten there.

Frightened at being in an unknown place and all alone, Elphaba wondered for the briefest of moments where Fiyero might be. Then she remembered that she didn't care. He wouldn't help her.

Afraid and disoriented, she scrambled off the bed, inadvertently placing her full weight on her injured ankle. Surprised by the sharp knife of pain that shot up her leg, she cried out and crumpled to the ground.

Her cry elicited a response from a person in an adjoining room. A woman who was also dressed in white.

"Well, hello there," the woman said, kneeling down in front of her. "I was beginning to wonder when you might grace us with your presence. Although it's good that you slept as long as you did. Your body needed time to recover."

The woman paused, as though waiting for some sort of response. Elphaba didn't have one. She was desperately confused.

Perhaps sensing the girl's uncertainty, the woman continued. "I'm the head nurse here in the infirmary. I've been looking after you over the past few days. It was touch and go at first, but you seem to be feeling better, breathing a bit easier, no?"

She paused, then tried again. "It's a good thing we put your ankle in a proper cast when we did," she said lightly. "The splint created by Master Fiyero wouldn't have given much support once you landed on it just now. I know that probably hurt, but it should be fine."

Still no response. The nurse sighed, feeling a bit silly about the one-sided conversation and giving up on it. "Alright, let's get you back into bed." She gently lifted the little girl from the floor to the bed, feeling her stiffen from the contact. "I'll be back to check on you in a little while," she said, then took her leave.

When the woman had gone, Elphaba lay back, staring miserably at the ceiling. She finally understood why she was here. She'd been very ill when they had arrived at the castle. Near death, even. So she'd been brought here, to be "looked after." Until she was better, and they could do whatever they planned to do with her.

Because after all, what good was a dead freak?

* * *

After the nurse had reported that the girl had awoken, the queen went to visit her. Fiyero was anxious to do the same, but Mira thought it best that the child not be assaulted with too much at once. Especially after what she'd been through, according to Fiyero's account.

She quietly entered the infirmary. Elphaba was sitting up, intensely focused on drawing a pattern with her finger in the thick comforter of the bed. A tray of food sat untouched next to her. Despite what Mira had learned about this little girl from her son, she couldn't help but be surprised by the resonating, powerful sadness that emanated from her.

The queen approached her. "It's important that you eat dear," she said softly.

Elphaba started and looked up. Her eyes widened as she recognized the woman that had met them at the carriage days ago. The queen, she had surmised.

So she was well enough for the queen to visit her…she was terrified to think of what would happen now.

Mira sat in a chair next to the child's bed, and instinctively, in an effort to be comforting, placed her hand over Elphaba's.

The little girl seemed to stiffen at the touch.

"It won't rub off, you know," she said suddenly. Her voice was hoarse from illness, her tone shaken and fearful, despite her apparent effort to be cold.

"I beg your pardon?" the queen responded, taken aback.

Elphaba sighed. Honestly, she had come to terms with what was happening, and now just wanted to speed up the queen's assessment of her. She was, indeed, the freakiest of freaks, and the queen might as well know that now rather than prolong her investigation.

"My skin. It's really green. Not painted or anything," Elphaba explained, staring down at her hands.

The queen didn't respond immediately, horrified and sickened by the implications of the girl's words. Had no one ever touched this child for any purpose beyond assessing her worth as a side show attraction? The thought made Mira's stomach turn.

"I know that," she said gently. She removed her hand from Elphaba's, in an effort to alleviate the girl's discomfort.

The two sat in a somewhat awkward silence for a moment. The queen broke it.

"I'm Mira, Fiyero's mother. He told me your name is Elphaba?"

Without looking up, Elphaba barely nodded her assent.

"Well, Elphaba," the queen continued softly, "it is my understanding that you had a run in with a certain young man—Dalik, I think his name is?—who made you fearful of coming here."

Elphaba's breath hitched. Her nails dug into the palms of her hands, drawing blood. She waited, terrified, for the queen's next words.

"If I had my way," Mira continued, "Fiyero would never have had to associate with that boy. His family had an audience with us once before, and the lot of them are unkind and dishonest." She sighed. "My son may be many things—several of which we are working on," she interjected with a smile. "But he is a good boy, with a good heart. When he saw you, he was very upset at the way you were being treated. He knew it was wrong, and he wanted to help you. That is the only reason you are here."

The queen watched the little girl, who was looking down and seemingly studying her hands with great intensity. Her long dark hair fell around her face, shielding her expression from the queen's gaze.

After a long silence, Mira tried once more to reassure the child. "You have no reason to be afraid, Elphaba. No one here wishes to harm you."

At that, Elphaba finally looked up at the older woman. She had been crying. "Do you—" she started shakily. "Do you promise?"

Mira's heart broke for the little girl, who at that moment sounded so young, and so very afraid. "I swear it."

With that, Elphaba let out a sob. Her frightened tears were transformed into those of relief. Even before Dalik had lied to her, she had never really believed that someone would actually care enough to help her. It had been too much for her to fathom. Much too much to hope for. The realization that it was true—that someone did care—overwhelmed her completely.

The queen moved closer to Elphaba. She gently brushed a wayward lock of hair from the little girl's face and tucked it behind her ear. "It's going to be okay, sweetheart.," she murmured. "You're safe now."


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Thank you for your reviews! They inspired me to get right on the next chapter, so--here it is! I pretty much have the remainder of this story outlined in my head now (don't worry, there's still a long way to go!). Anyway, as always, your reviews mean so much to me, so if you like what you're reading (or even if you don't!) please review!**

**Not mine. **

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Once Elphaba had calmed, and the queen had left, the little girl realized that she wasn't quite sure how to feel. She believed that Mira was telling the truth—she could see no reason to believe otherwise.

So she was relieved. And that was…quite a new sensation for Elphaba.

Her all-consuming anxiety and terror were no longer all consuming. But if she didn't feel those things, what did she feel? What _could_ she feel? Other than confused, of course.

The answer soon came unbidden: Guilt.

She had not seen Fiyero since they had arrived at the castle. And why should he want to see her? She'd been nothing but awful to him over the past few days.

He'd risked a lot…his life, even…to help her. Had he begun to regret it? To resent her? _Probably_, she told herself glumly.

But then he'd come in, only an hour or so after his mother had left. And once again, she wasn't sure how to feel about that. Except shy. And embarrassed. And still pretty guilty.

He stood there awkwardly, right inside the door.

"Hi," he'd said.

"Hi." It was little more than a whisper. She couldn't quite bring herself to look at him.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better." There was a pause, then suddenly, "I'm sorry," she mumbled quickly, and cringed, as though worried about his response.

"For what?"

She looked at him then, her confusion at its pinnacle. "For—" she stumbled, "for…being so mean to you. And calling you a liar."

He smiled. His smile was nice, she noted fleetingly. It was…friendly.

"Hey, if you'd told me the bizarre story I told you, I'm pretty sure I'd call you a liar. Or at least think you were crazy," he conceded.

Her mind reeled. Over the past few days, she'd been wholly focused on what Dalik had told her. She'd completely forgotten Fiyero's story. About how he'd known her before, and how things had been changed…about the spell.

"It's true, then…" she said aloud, trying to wrap her mind around what that meant.

"What?"

She looked back at him. "About…the time travel? Your mother said you just helped me because you felt sorry for me…but that doesn't explain how you knew my name." She paused, frowning slightly in thought. "So, it's true?"

Fiyero sighed. Why couldn't he have told her in the beginning what he had told his mother, or some variation thereof? If he'd told Elphaba that he just wanted to help her—that he felt for her and couldn't leave her there—that would have saved him, and her, a whole lot of trouble and confusion. Besides, he was worried about telling her too much about the spell…about the future. What if he screwed something up?

But then, he couldn't have convincingly lied to her back then, could he? Not after he was stupid enough to call her by name.

"Yeah," he admitted, defeated. "It's true."

She was quiet for a long while. "So," she said finally, "the other me. The one before the spell. When she was little, was she part of a…I mean, was she a fr—"

He cut her off, determined to not allow her to use that word in reference to herself, ever again. "She wasn't in a fair, no."

"But…was she green?" she asked him.

He paused, not expecting the question. "She was," he affirmed softly.

"Oh."

The silence between them was awkward, and a little sad. Fiyero decided to break it.

"Hey, I have something to show you." Before she could respond, he had left the room. He returned carrying a small, black, fuzzy—

"Salki!" Elphaba exclaimed.

He shushed her. "They have this stupid rule here about one visitor at a time. So we have to be quiet."

She nodded. He walked over to her, placing the Cub next to her on the bed. She reached out and scratched his chin, and was rewarded with a lick.

"Are you ready for this?" Fiyero said with a smile, kneeling down next to them.

She frowned slightly. "Ready for what?"

When he next spoke, it was to the Cub. "Hey, little guy. Can you tell me what your name is? What's your name?" he asked gently.

The little Bear turned his head when Fiyero spoke to him. He blinked once, twice, and then—

"Sal-ki," he responded timidly, carefully pronouncing each of the syllables.

Elphaba gasped, her eyes lighting up.

Fiyero continued, still speaking to the Cub. "And this," he said, gesturing to the little girl, "is Elphaba. Can you say 'El-pha-ba?" he asked slowly.

"El-ba-ba," responded the little Bear.

"Fiyero, that's amazing! How did you—Oh, Salki, that's so good. What a good boy!" She took the Cub in her arms and planted a kiss between his ears. She looked up at Fiyero, smiling delightedly.

Fiyero made it his life's mission to see her smile like that many, many more times.

* * *

Days later, Mira asked that Elphaba join them at dinner. At the request, Elphaba felt a ball of terror slowly begin to unfurl in her stomach.

For her, it wasn't an emotion that could be easily gotten rid of.

But Mira had reassured her that the only attendees would be herself, Fiyero, and Fiyero's younger sister. The king was away on official business—she would meet him soon.

And, Mira had asked, would she like for one of the maids to help her dress and do her hair?

Elphaba had assented, not sure of what else to do. The maid had helped her into a simple but pretty dress. She'd then gently and patiently combed out the tangles within tangles that knotted Elphaba's hair, then braided it along the hairline, allowing the braids to dissolve into loose hair that cascaded down her back.

No one had ever done her hair before, Elphaba realized. Well, her mother, maybe, before she died…she couldn't remember.

She took a deep breath as she walked to the dining room, gingerly using the crutches she had been given. Fiyero pulled out the chair next to him, and took her crutches from her, leaning them against the wall.

She sat, and glanced nervously across the table at Mira and a little girl who Elphaba estimated to be about three.

"Elphaba," the queen began warmly, "this is Fiyero's sister, Isme. Isme, this is Elphaba."

Isme stared wide-eyed at Elphaba. "You are green," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Isme!" Fiyero started. Elphaba cast her eyes down. She had anticipated this. She had learned from experience that children could be the cruelest.

"Why are you green?" the girl continued.

Elphaba was surprised. She had expected an insult of some sort, but certainly not a question. She wasn't sure how to respond. "I…well…I don't know. I've always been."

"Oh," the girl responded simply. Then, "I have to show you something, okay? I have to—" she grunted and panted slightly as she scooted herself back from the table, nearly toppling her chair. "I have to get it." With that, she hopped off her chair and ran out of the dining room.

"Isme!" the Queen called. "What do we say before we leave the table?"

The child's response echoed from down the hallway. "May I be 'scused, please?" she yelled.

Mira sighed. "You may," she said quietly to herself, her daughter already far out of hearing range.

Within minutes, Isme had returned. She squirmed her way between Elphaba and Fiyero, then thrust something into Elphaba's arms. Elphaba looked down, and was surprised at what she saw. A stuffed toy bear, with buttons for eyes, and covered in green corduroy.

"His name is Hermy," Isme explained, patting the bear. "He is green, and you are green. And he is a Bear, and you came with a Bear—Fiyero showed me. So you can have him."

Elphaba swallowed. She had not expected this. This was something very new to her.

Finally, she responded quietly. "I…I can't take your Bear."

"Why?" Isme asked. "He was my most favorite, but I have a new most favorite. So you need to have him, okay?"

Elphaba drew in a shaky breath. "Okay."

Mira smiled softly. "That was very sweet, Isme. Now please sit down and finish your carrots."


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Sorry for the delay, and for the short-ish chapter. Hope you like it anyway! Things will get...interesting...from here on out. Please read and review! (And thanks, as always, for your reviews.)**

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After dinner, Mira ushered the two older children to a sitting room, warmed by a fire that had been lit in anticipation of their arrival. She left the room for a moment, then returned with two steaming cups of cocoa.

"Give me a few minutes to put Isme to bed, and I will join you," she said with a smile.

After she'd taken her leave, they sat there in silence. Fiyero would occasionally glance at Elphaba, who was staring intently into the cup of hot chocolate, as if trying to divine tea leaves. He noticed how stiff she was, how uncomfortable she still appeared to be. She clenched the handle of her cup so tightly that the whites of her knuckles were visible. Her behavior puzzled and frustrated him. What fears did she still harbor? What else could he do to make them go away?

"What…what is this?" she asked softly, surprising him. "I've not had it before."

He immediately felt guilty for his frustration with her. She was trying so hard to make conversation, to act calm. She just needed time—and he needed to be patient.

"Hot cocoa."

She lifted the mug, and took a small sip. "It's good."

"Yeah," he responded. Oz, would it always be this awkward?

Then his mother returned, and somehow, the tenseness that had pervaded the room seemed to disperse.

She sank down in a chair next to the fireplace. "Oz, your sister!" she said with a sigh. "Despite my best efforts to be discrete, she found out about the hot cocoa, and was quite adamant that she should have some." She laughed. "The child bounces off the walls as it is. Can you imagine how she'd be with liquid sugar at this time of night?"

Fiyero smiled. "So how'd you convince her to go to bed?"

The Queen looked almost sheepish. "Promised her some for breakfast." She sighed, then continued defensively. "I simply don't have the energy to argue with her. I could keep up with you when you were her age, Fiyero, but I'm not as young as I once was. Isme can be quite exhausting."

"She seems very sweet , though," Elphaba intoned, then ducked her head, as though surprised and embarrassed at having injected into the conversation.

"Oh, she is," Mira agreed with a smile. "Just…high-spirited." The woman was quiet for a moment, and regarded Elphaba thoughtfully. "I've been hoping to find someone who could help me with her. She's all over the place, all the time, and as I said, I have difficulty keeping up with her." She paused. "We haven't yet spoken about this, Elphaba, but if you have family you'd like to return to, that can certainly be arranged as soon as you're ready to travel." She noticed Elphaba's pained, frightened expression, and continued hurriedly. "However, if you'd be willing to stay here with us, and wouldn't mind helping to look after Isme and keep her from running amok, we would love for you to stay. It would be quite perfect, actually, as she seemed truly taken with you."

Fiyero marveled at his mother's quick thinking. He had told her when they first arrived about Elphaba's family…about what her father was like, and what he had done. From that moment, he knew that his mother would take whatever means necessary to ensure that Elphaba wouldn't return to that.

He couldn't quite read Elphaba's reaction at the queen's proposal. She had stiffened at the mention of her family, dread emanating from her. But now…was she thoughtful? Nervous? Happy? He couldn't be sure.

Finally, when she spoke, he recognized the trademark uncertainty that seemed ever present in her over the past few days. "I…are you sure? I mean, I wouldn't want to…you've already been so nice to me, and I don't…I mean, I couldn't…" She trailed off, appearing shaken, and almost tearful. As though so unused to any extension of kindness that she didn't know what to do with it.

Seeming to recognize this, Mira responded gently. "It would be such a help to me, Elphaba. Truly, it would. And if you don't do it, I might force the task on Fiyero."

"Oh, Oz," he groaned. He stole a glance at Elphaba, who seemed to be biting back a smile.

"If you're sure," the girl said softly, "then I would like that very much. Thank you, Your Majesty."

"It's Mira," the queen corrected with a smile. "And thank you, dear. Fiyero thanks you too, I'm sure."

Mira turned back to her son. "And now that that's settled, there is another matter that must be addressed sooner rather than later. I know that the last few months have been quite eventful. However, that does not excuse you from returning to your lessons. I'm sure this wilderness scouts business is quite enlightening," she said wryly, "but you have some catching up to do. Starting tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Fiyero repeated, dismayed. After Shiz, he had taken great joy in the knowledge that he was done with school. He did not relish the idea of returning to it.

"Tomorrow," Mira confirmed briskly. "And Elphaba," she continued, prompting the girl to glance up at her in surprise, "I can't tell you what to do in this regard, but I think it would be a very good idea for you to attend lessons with Fiyero's tutor as well. Would you be agreeable to that?"

"Really?" The girl responded, her eyes lighting up. "I would…if that wouldn't be too much trouble, I would love to do that." Although she clearly strove to remain polite, she couldn't hide her excitement.

The queen smiled. "See, Fiyero? Some children are actually enthusiastic about learning. Perhaps you might take a page from Miss Elphaba's book, hm?"

Fiyero couldn't help but smile. If it meant that Elphaba had the opportunity to indulge in her very favorite activity, then he would endure school for her, all over again.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews. This is my longest chapter yet. It would mean a lot to me to get your feedback on it, good, bad, or indifferent. I adore all reviews equally!  
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**Wicked isn't mine.**

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_The old woman sitting next to her in the carriage hadn't looked at her since they'd left._

"_Who…" Elphaba's voice shook, and she took a deep breath and tried once again. "Who are you?"_

_The woman continued to ignore her._

_Elphaba drew a shaky breath, blinking back tears. "Please, I just…I just want to go home."_

_Finally, the woman spoke. "You're not wanted there," she said. "You're a smart enough girl to know that by now."_

_An involuntary sob escaped the little girl. "Where are you taking me?" she pled._

_She was once again greeted by silence._

_And then, suddenly, they were there. The familiar tent loomed before her. She stared at it in confusion. "I don't understand," she whimpered._

_She was roughly hauled out of the carriage by her arm, and dragged into the tent. They were greeted by the man she recognized from earlier. He smiled at her. A terrifying leer. "What have you brought me, old woman?"_

"_You can bloody well see what I brought you," the woman snapped. "You coveted her earlier, did you not? She will do much for your…little venture."_

_The man nodded. "But I don't want any trouble," he said hesitantly. "She said something about her father being the governor."_

"_I assure you," the woman responded with a sneer, "she won't be missed."_

_The man shrugged. He dug into his pocket. "How much?"_

"_Nothing. Just leave tonight."_

_He greedily assented, then reached to take hold of the little girl._

"_Just a moment," the woman said. He stopped, uncertain._

_She knelt down before Elphaba, and met the frightened child's eyes. "Remember this," she growled. "This is what you are meant for. What you were meant for all along."_

* * *

Mira woke to screams, accompanied by the shattering of glass. She hurried out of bed and around the corner to the east wing, to Elphaba's room.

She was greeted by a sobbing child sitting on the bed. All around her, every vase, lamp, and picture frame had been shattered to pieces, as had the window on the opposite side of the room. Mira surveyed the damage, bewildered.

"Elphaba?" she said quietly. "What happened, dear?"

"I'm so sorry," the child sobbed frantically, not looking up at her. "I d-didn't mean to!"

"I'm sure you didn't," Mira agreed. She walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.

"I underst-stand if you don't want me here anymore. I'll leave. I'm so sorry," she repeated miserably.

"Let's take a deep breath, okay?" Mira soothed. "Of course we want you here." Mira was quiet for a moment, trying to give Elphaba a chance to calm herself. When the girl's sobs began to subside, she prompted her gently. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Elphaba hesitated, biting her lip, before finally speaking again. "I…I had a dream. A nightmare," she explained. She twisted her hands in her lap. "And sometimes…sometimes when I get really scared, things happen. I don't mean for them to happen," she said hurriedly, "But they do." She finally met Mira's eyes. "I'm really sorry."

"No more apologies, okay?" Mira said. "And you know what?" she said thoughtfully. "I think I might know what's going on here."

"You do?" Elphaba said, confused.

Mira nodded. "When I was in school—at university—one could specialize in sorcery. Some students studied very hard, but were never very good at it. And others…well, they seemed to have a natural talent." She smiled. "That may be what you have, Elphaba. A very special talent."

Elphaba thought about this for a moment, surveying the room. "A talent that breaks things?"

Mira laughed. "Maybe right now that's all it does. But if you learned more about it, you might be able to control it and use it only when you want to, and only to do things that you mean to do." She paused thoughtfully. "There was a very good teacher at my university, a woman named Yackle. She's retired now, I think. Maybe I could have her come and teach you what she knows. How does that sound?"

It was a moment before Elphaba responded. "You don't have to do that," she said softly.

"Well, I think I do, if I want to keep the rest of my breakables intact." Mira smiled.

Elphaba looked at her worriedly, but upon realizing that she was only joking, returned the smile with a small one of her own.

* * *

"So how was your lesson?" Fiyero asked. He and Elphaba were in the castle classroom, waiting for Ama Nori, the children's tutor, to arrive. Isme and Salki sat in another corner of the room, finger painting and paw painting, respectively. Salki's vocabulary had already increased tenfold, and he and Isme were currently enjoying the task of painting themselves—the paper they had been given, however, was quite clean.

Elphaba had experienced her first sorcery lesson that morning. As promised, Mira had found Yackle and hired the older woman to privately tutor their young ward.

"It was good," Elphaba responded simply. "Interesting."

"Yeah?" Fiyero said. "What did you learn?"

She shrugged. "Mostly how to control myself, so I don't have...accidents." She paused. "Oh, and I asked about time travel," she said, almost as an afterthought.

"You did?" he said, surprised. "What did she tell you?"

"Just that it can really happen. But she wouldn't tell me much else." Elphaba paused thoughtfully. "She looked at me kind of funny, though."

Fiyero was about to ask her more when Ama Nori entered the room.

"Welcome back, Master Fiyero," she said briskly. "And I presume you're Miss Elphaba?"

Elphaba nodded shyly.

"Very good then. Let's waste no more time. Fiyero, your history book—I'm sure you've missed it," she said wryly, setting a large tome atop his desk. "And one for you, Miss Elphaba."

Fiyero noticed Elphaba regarding the book with apprehension.

"Alright then. Turn to page 239. Miss Elphaba, please read the first section aloud."

Elphaba's hands trembled as she slowly opened the book. She flushed, turning the pages slowly.

"Are you quite alright, Miss Elphaba?" the ama asked after a moment.

The child bit her lip, and nodded. "I…it's just that I…" her face flushed an even darker shade of green. "I don't…I don't know how…" she finished, almost tearfully.

"Ah, I see," Ama Nori said. "Well, no worries. Master Fiyero, read the chapter to yourself. Miss Elphaba, why don't we go sit over there," she pointed to a corner of the room, "and have a reading lesson."

Elphaba nodded, and sighed, relieved at the ama's response to her embarrassing predicament. As Ama Nori sat down next to her and began to go over the basics of reading, Elphaba glanced up to see Fiyero reviewing the history chapter, and she wondered if she'd ever be able to catch up with him.

* * *

**_Five Years Later_**

"—and it is for that reason that the educational integration of human and Animal youth is essential to ensuring the continued beneficial bond between our communities."

With that, Elphaba smiled and returned to her seat.

"Nicely done, Miss Elphaba. Master Fiyero?"

Fiyero, who had been trying to blend into the background, reddened. "Um…yeah?"

Ama Nori was not amused. "Your essay, Master Fiyero."

"I…uh…" He cleared his throat. "I sort of…forgot."

"I reminded you, twice!" Elphaba hissed.

The ama overheard and shook her head. "Clearly, you have absolutely no excuse, Master Fiyero. You will have your essay completed, by tomorrow." She sighed. "That will be all for today."

"Thanks so much for the help," Fiyero muttered as they gathered their things.

"I do try," Elphaba responded, smiling sweetly.

Fiyero couldn't stay irritated at her. Sure, she had shown him up in class on more than one occasion. But honestly, it was to be expected. And really, he wouldn't have it any other way. Over the last few years, he'd watched her progress from the frightened, confused little girl that he'd found to a confident, intelligent, amazing young woman. She was the Elphaba he'd known at Shiz. Perhaps even a happier, more confident version of that Elphaba. She knew she was smart, and took pride in that. But, aside from the occasional good-natured jab at his expense, she was never condescending. Her first concern was always him, and Isme, and their parents. She was, above all else, kind. She was _Elphaba_.

The lessons with Yackle had continued. She rarely spoke about what she learned, but it was obvious that she enjoyed sorcery, and, perhaps because of the teachings, she hadn't had a magical "outburst" in years.

In any event, being able to be there for this part of her life—being able to grow up with her—was in itself pretty incredible.

As they left the classroom, eight-year-old Isme, who had finished her lessons earlier in the day, ran up to them. "Elphie, can we go ice skating today? Please?"

Elphaba sighed. "We talked about this already, Isme," she said gently. "The lake only froze over two days ago. The ice isn't thick enough yet."

"But it's snowing today!" the little girl pled. "And it's really cold! So I bet the ice is thicker than you think."

"The answer's no, Isme," Fiyero said irritably, tired of hearing his sister beg for the same thing for two days straight.

Isme glared at him. "I wasn't asking _you_, Fiyero."

"Hey, I have an idea," Elphaba said, attempting to redirect the conversation. "Why don't we go build a snowman?"

"Because snowmen are lame," Isme responded crossly. "They're for babies,"

"Okay then," Elphaba tried, "how about a snow fort? It could be like a little clubhouse. No boys allowed."

Isme smiled, placated, and shot a triumphant glance at her brother. "Okay. But Fiyero, you have to help us build it. You just can't come in. Ever."

"That doesn't seem fair," Fiyero commented, but then shrugged and followed them outside.

They cleared a spot under a tree, and Fiyero helped Elphaba gather a mound of snow. He then stood back and watched the girls begin to construct their fort.

"You know," he said after a moment, "you're making the bricks too big. And you're not packing them tightly enough. Won't make for a very steady fort."

Elphaba responded without turning to look at him. "You're always welcome to help, you know, if we're doing such a poor job of it."

"That's alright," he responded. "I'll just supervise from here."

"Or you know what you could do?" Elphaba said, helping Isme with another snow-brick. "You could go work on that essay. Or did you 'forget' about that already?"

"Wow…kicking me while I'm down. Nice. You feel like that was necessary?"

"I do, actually," Elphaba said. He could tell she was smiling, though she was still absorbed in helping Isme and not looking in his direction. He took that opportunity to jump up and grab onto a low branch of the tree that was heavy with snow, treating Elphaba to her own personal little avalanche.

She jumped up, startled upon being assaulted by the slab of snow. She glared at the Fiyero, then the tree, then back at Fiyero.

"Very mature," she said lowly.

"Never said that I was." He grinned.

"Yeah, well…neither did I." With that, she bent down and grabbed one of the snow-bricks, and launched it at Fiyero's head.

He ducked, barely missing it, but she threw another one, hitting him square in the chest. Lacking convenient access to the girls' bricks, Fiyero improvised with some quickly constructed snowballs. He ran off to find a more strategic location behind another tree, then poked around and pelted Elphaba again. He was rewarded by another brick grazing the top of his head.

He held his hands in front of him in surrender. "Hey, now, enough is enough."

"Uh uh," she shook her head, grinning dangerously. "Some of that went down the back of my dress. This isn't over yet." She grabbed another brick and ran toward him, chasing him as he jogged toward the castle. She finally caught up with him and grabbed the sleeve of his coat in an effort to slow him enough to shove the snow down the back of his sweater. Recognizing her intention, Fiyero twisted away from her, but managed to slip and land on his back, and Elphaba, still holding onto his sleeve, landed on top of him.

Their breathless, exhausted laughter faded and then stopped. There was a marked change in the atmosphere, as they simultaneously became aware of their respective positions. Yet neither of them moved right away. Their breath was visible in the cold air, and the little clouds formed and seemed to join with one another before drifting away. Hazel eyes met blue, and there was a sort of intensity there that--in this lifetime, anyway--had never been there before. For the briefest of moments, time stopped.

And then the moment was shattered.

"See, I told you it was thick enough!" They heard Isme yelling from a distance.

Horror dawned on both of them instantly, and they quickly untangled themselves and stood. They looked toward the lake, and saw her standing in the middle of it. They began to run, and had nearly reached her when they heard it. Like a gunshot. The ice had cracked.

"Isme, don't move!" Fiyero yelled.

Isme suddenly looked uncertain and a little frightened. "That sound…what—what was th—"

Suddenly, the ground beneath her shattered, and she was swallowed into the lake.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Sorry for the delay! Spilled something all over my Macbook, so managed to lose some of the chapters I had in the works. :( But they're coming back to me, slowly but surely. Also, saw Wicked again, which is always inspiring (and which is definitely not mine). So here you go! An extra long chapter. As always, I really, really appreciate your reviews, more than you know.**

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_"Isme, don't move!" Fiyero yelled._

_Isme suddenly looked uncertain and a little frightened. "That sound…what—what was th—"_

_Suddenly, the ground beneath her shattered, and she was swallowed into the lake._

Fiyero's reaction was immediate. He took off his coat and boots, in a most probably futile attempt to make himself light enough for the task at hand. He then lay on his stomach, and began crawling across the ice, toward its middle…toward the hole.

"Be careful, Fiyero!" he heard Elphaba call out desperately behind him.

He had almost reached the hole when he heard it. Another loud 'pop,' echoing in the stillness. He froze.

"The crack—it's spreading," Elphaba said unnecessarily. He bit off a retort. He could hear how her voice shook, and he didn't have to look back to know that she was struggling not to cry. She was terrified. Hell, _he_ was terrified.

The moment's savior came in the form of a large, shaggy black Bear, who lumbered over to them, staring at Fiyero from the other end of the lake. "Move back, Fiyero," he instructed. "Slowly. I'll get her."

Fiyero did as he was told, grateful for his friend's timely intervention. After having lived in the palace for a year, Salki had joined a family of misfit Animals that lived on the forest's edge, composed of a Wolf who had escaped a similar traveling show, a Pig whose family had been brutally slaughtered, and a Bear Cub whose mother, similar to Salki's own, had been shot when mistaken for a bear. The children had stumbled upon the mismatched group while playing one afternoon. Salki had gradually become quite close to the female Cub, and after a time, had decided to stay with her. But he was never far, and his visits were frequent.

As soon as Fiyero had backed off the ice, Salki jumped onto the lake, shattering it completely. Protected by his thick, repellent fur, he dove into the frigid water. Neither daring to breathe, Fiyero and Elphaba stared intently at the area where he had submerged himself. After what seemed to be an interminably long time, he emerged again, with Isme. The back of her winter jacket was held gently, yet firmly, in the Bear's massive jaws, and he swam quickly toward the other two children, then clambered out of the lake, depositing the little girl in front of them.

Fiyero's breath caught as he took in the sight of his sister. Her typically fair skin had become a sickening grayish color, her lips and fingernails the same shade as the water that had rendered them blue. He reached to brush a wet, pale blonde tendril of hair from her face, and swallowed as he registered how cold she was. Impossibly cold.

"She's not breathing." His voice sounded hollow to his own ears.

"I'll get help." Salki lumbered off toward the castle.

Fiyero began fervently pressing on her chest, as he had done for Elphaba years ago. When that brought no change, he forced her mouth open and began to breathe for her.

Nothing.

He sat up, his breath releasing as a sob. "I can't…I don't…" He began again with the chest compressions, with renewed, frenzied fervor.

"Fiyero, wait." Elphaba's voice came to him as through a tunnel. His ears were ringing, his heart felt as though it would any moment burst through his chest. "Fiyero…Fiyero!"

"What?" He looked at her then, his voice harsher than he had intended.

She met his gaze evenly. Her hazel eyes were flecked with worry, but he could see her efforts to be calm. For him.

"Let me try…something," she said hesitantly. With that, she placed a trembling hand on Isme's chest. But she didn't press on it, as Fiyero had. He watched her as she closed her eyes, and began whispering under her breath. Her words, incomprehensible to him, came fast and low. She sat rigidly, with a focus and intensity he wasn't sure he possessed. Her voice grew stronger, the words came faster and with more confidence.

At that moment, he realized that Isme's survival would not be achieved through any sort of medical aid that he, or anyone else, could administer. She was too…too far gone, for too long, to respond to that. If she lived, it would be because of what Elphaba was doing…whatever, exactly, that was.

* * *

Out of breath, Salki entered the castle. Before he could call for help, help found him, in the form of Yackle. A very angry, very agitated Yackle, he noted. He drew back, a little frightened, as ridiculous as that was for an Animal of his size and with his strength. Yackle had always intimidated him, somewhat.

He hadn't the chance to say anything before she confronted him.

"Where are they, Bear?" she asked him, with an unmistakable sense of urgency.

"By the lake," he responded.

She turned and hurried off, her cloak swishing behind her. As she rushed away from the baffled Bear, he thought he heard her mutter under her breath.

"That stupid, _stupid_ girl."

* * *

It was sudden, when it happened. Isme began to cough up water before greedily sucking in air. And then, almost impossibly, her pallor began to change, the gray tinge of her skin rapidly blooming into a healthy pink, the blush returning to her cheeks. As Fiyero helped her to sit, he was amazed at how warm, how dry she felt.

"Elphaba, that was amaz—" He looked up, grinning, but stopped and froze. Because something was wrong.

Very, obviously, wrong.

Elphaba's eyes met his, filled with fear and confusion. She was gasping frantically, the only result a horrible wheezing sound. She trembled, her fingernails digging into the frozen ground below.

He reached for her, frowning in concern. "Elphaba?" He touched her and drew back quickly in shock. She was like ice. He hadn't thought it possible to be colder than Isme had been. But it was. She was.

As though trying to calm herself, she allowed her chin to rest on her chest, her dark hair falling around her. But still, she couldn't get air. She began to sway, and her eyes fluttered closed.

And then Yackle arrived.

Fiyero looked up, surprised at how quickly she approached them.

"Idiot girl," the old woman said, roughly grabbing Elphaba's arm.

Fiyero bristled and started to protest, but stopped when Yackle closed her eyes and began to mutter, her words sounding similar to the incantation that Elphaba had spoken moments before. And suddenly, as sudden as it had happened with Isme, Elphaba drew a breath, then another.

"Elphie? Are you okay?"

Isme's frightened inquiry was shushed by Yackle, who squatted down in front of Elphaba. The younger woman refused to meet her gaze.

"What did I tell you?" Yackle asked, her voice dangerously low.

Elphaba hesitated. "I'm sorry, I just—"

"What-did-I-tell-you?" Yackle repeated the question firmly, as though determined to get a response.

"That…" Elphaba responded haltingly. "That I wasn't yet powerful enough to use that spell."

"Not powerful enough, not old enough, and not skilled enough," the old woman confirmed harshly. "Your only accomplishment would have been to take what ailed her," Yackle pointed a gnarled finger toward Isme, "onto you. You'd be dead." She paused, allowing that truth to sink in. "The only ill effect I'll have from performing the spell on you is a brief head cold."

Elphaba bit her lip, studying her hands. All were silent until Yackle spoke again. "You will not even think of using that spell again until I tell you that you are ready to do so. Is that understood?"

Fiyero noticed Elphaba's expression, and had to work to suppress a smile. The hardening of her eyes, the setting of her jaw…all indicators that Elphaba was not about to be told what she could or could not do.

Yackle seemed to recognize the expression as well. She grabbed Elphaba's chin and forced the girl's eyes to meet her own. "I _said_, is that understood?"

The silence seemed interminable as the young woman and the old regarded one another. Elphaba finally looked away. "Yes."

Yackle nodded briskly and stood, wiping the snow from her hands onto her skirt. Without another word to any of them, she turned and quickly strode back toward the castle.

The three children watched her go silently. Fiyero then turned to Elphaba, his brow furrowed in concern.

"Are you alright?"

She nodded, but wouldn't look at him.

"I'm sorry, Elphie," Isme said tearfully. "I should've listened. I should never have gone on the lake."

"No, you shouldn't have." The older girl stood and wrapped her arms around Isme's shoulders. "But I'm very glad you're okay. Now, why don't you run inside and get changed, and I'll be up in a while to help you with your homework."

The child, who would normally balk at this suggestion, thought better of it. She nodded meekly and ran ahead of them.

They trudged behind her silently. Fiyero watched Elphaba, thoughtful. She studied the ground as she walked, and he couldn't quite read her expression. He thought back to the interaction with Yackle, wondering if that was what troubled her.

"I have to say, I don't envy your lessons with her," he tried, only half-joking.

Elphaba didn't respond for a moment. "That's just her way," she explained finally. "She doesn't mince words. But she means well." She hesitated. "And she was right."

Fiyero stopped walking. "You could have died?"

Elphaba shrugged, almost sheepish. "I guess so. I mean…it seemed that way, didn't it?"

"And you knew that?" he pressed on. "Before you did the spell? She'd warned you of that?"

She nodded and looked away, uncomfortable with the intensity of his questioning.

"So you--" he faltered. "You were willing to give your life, to save Isme's?"

She glanced back at him, perplexed. "Well, so were you. You could easily have fallen through the ice, trying to get to her."

"But she's _my_ sister."

The words hung there between them, and suddenly Fiyero wished he hadn't said them. Elphaba looked at him silently for a moment, her wide eyes almost wounded.

"And she's the closest I've got to one," she finally responded. With that, she turned and hurried ahead of him, leaving him to shuffle back to the castle on his own.

* * *

"Merry Lurlinemas."

Two days had passed since Isme's near tragic accident. In that time, Elphaba had been quiet, saying very little to him. She didn't seem angry, and she continued to participate in school, play with and take care of Isme, and speak to Fiyero and the king and queen when spoken to. She just seemed…removed. There was a sadness to her, as well, which Fiyero hadn't seen in a long while.

She might not have been angry with him, but Fiyero was furious with himself. Of course he'd never meant to hurt her. He had only been concerned for her. And, although he knew of Elphaba's propensity for complete selflessness, he'd been overwhelmed by the idea that she would have quite literally died to save Isme.

But out of his surprise, and his worry, he had managed to say something that had isolated Elphaba. That had reminded her of the family who had rejected her.

There were many things that required a great deal of effort for Elphaba to put behind her. Fiyero knew that. He believed that she was genuinely happy, and confident, for the most part. But he would be a fool to believe that the five years she had spent with his family had completely obliterated any memories she had of the time before he'd found her. She had to work to maintain her happiness, to prevent herself from being haunted by the past.

But his one stupid, throwaway comment had ripped open a wound that she'd kept carefully closed.

And he needed to fix that. For her, and for himself.

So he'd searched for her, and found her sitting on a bench in the garden, deeply engrossed in the life sciences chapters they'd been assigned that day.

She glanced up, startled by his greeting, and frowned in confusion.

"'Merry Lurlinemas?' Fiyero, Lurlinemas is three weeks away."

Fiyero shrugged and sat down next to her, depositing a wrapped gift in her lap, atop the open textbook. "I know. But I want you to have this now."

She looked at the gift, then back up at him. "But—I haven't even gotten yours yet."

"I didn't say I wanted to exchange gifts now, did I? I want you to have this now. So will you open it, please?"

She sighed, and slid the textbook out from under the present, marking her page and setting it to the side. "I think you're just avoiding doing your reading," she said wryly, removing the bow from the gift.

He couldn't help but smile at that, glad to hear that she was at least up to cracking a joke.

She pulled the top from the box, and drew in a quick breath as she examined its contents. Inside lay a looking glass made of silver, its back dotted with emeralds and rubies set out in an intricate pattern.

Elphaba was quiet for a long while. Her fingers traced the pattern of gems on the mirror's back, but she did not remove it from the box, nor did she turn it over.

"You don't like it?" Fiyero asked after a moment, unable to keep the disappointment from his tone.

"It…no, it isn't that, I just…" she stopped and sighed, then looked up at him. Her eyes were filled with a number of emotions, none of them quite what Fiyero had hoped to bring about. "Why would you get me this, Fiyero?"

He frowned and shrugged a shoulder. "I thought girls liked this sort of thing."

"But…" she seemed frustrated at his lack of understanding, "why would you get _me_ this?" She ducked her head then, her long black tresses shielding her from him. "I mean, really, Fiyero…it's not like there is much I could do to improve my appearance, with or without the assistance of a mirror." The quavering in her tone belied her attempt at humor.

"I wasn't implying that any improvement was needed," he responded softly.

She looked up at him sharply, her eyes swimming with hurt. "Are you trying to be funny?" she asked him incredulously.

"No! No, Elphaba, I…" He took a breath and closed his eyes, knowing that he had to get this right. "When I told you about why I went back in time to find you," he started, "I wasn't completely honest."

She watched him warily, uncertain of the reason for the change of topic, to a subject they rarely spoke of, anymore.

"We were friends, of course," he continued, "but it was more than that. In fact, it had to be more than that, because when someone's past has been changed through a time travel spell, so that the people she once knew would never have met her, the only person who can remember her…is her soul mate. The person who loves her so absolutely, so completely, that he can't imagine a life without her." He hesitated. "You might...verify that with Yackle, but those are the rules, as I understand them."

The hurt had begun to leave her eyes, replaced by a shocked, vulnerable uncertainty.

"I guess…I guess I got you this," Fiyero went on, gesturing toward the mirror, "because I want you to see what I see. What I've always seen." He paused. "You're beautiful, Elphaba."

* * *

_**Present day**_

One moment, Madame Morrible had been sitting at the Wizard's right hand, taking notes as he passed judgment on a family of Antelope who had refused to leave upon being evicted from a newly Animal-free neighborhood. The next, she found herself in the same dank Southstairs jail cell from which she had so recently escaped.

It was the idiot prince…she knew it. It was her own fault for not having taken her concerns about his conversation with Elphaba's sister more seriously. She simply had never, ever imagined that he would have the wherewithal to actually undo what she had done. Even now, she couldn't begin to imagine how he had done it. He first would have had to figure out what had happened to the green monstrosity, and then would have had to learn how to send himself back to find her. It seemed quite impossible, especially for someone of the prince's questionable intelligence.

But Morrible wasted no more time pondering that. Frankly, she was too frustrated. This was getting old. Somehow, he had righted the "wrong" that she had so carefully put into place.

Somehow, luck had been on his side. But years of talent, power, and detestation were on hers.

So she closed her eyes and prepared to go back one last time.

This time, she would get it right.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Wow, I've reached over 200 reviews! I can't thank you all enough. Especially since I have restarted this story, knowing that people are still reading and enjoying it has really kept me going, and kept my muse rolling out the chapters. So please keep it up!**

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* * *

**_"I guess…I guess I got you this," Fiyero went on, gesturing toward the mirror, "because I want you to see what I see. What I've always seen." He paused. "You're beautiful, Elphaba."_

Fiyero held his breath. He realized, suddenly, that he hadn't quite meant for the conversation to go as far as it had...for him to reveal as much as he did. In a sense, he felt like he was moving too quickly. But in another, he couldn't wait any longer, for her to know. It was no longer enough for him to be with her everyday, acting like a friend, or a brother. Of course, if that's what she wanted, that's what he would be—he would never abandon her, even if she, in this lifetime, didn't return his feelings.

He would be whatever she wanted him to be. But no matter what that was, he loved her. He would always love her.

And a part of him, perhaps a selfish part, wanted her to know.

For a long while, she said nothing. She watched him a moment, then cast her eyes to the frozen ground. She seemed entirely focused on clearing a small path through the snow with the toe of her boot.

The silence was unbearable for Fiyero. So much so that he almost broke it. But she surprised him, speaking first.

"I'm not her, you know," she said softly.

Fiyero frowned. "What?"

She sighed, her expression tormented. "This...other Elphaba. The one you came back for. Whatever—whoever--she was. That isn't me."

He struggled to keep up with her logic, finally giving in to hopeless confusion. "What do you mean? Of course it's you. You're the same person."

"No!" she said, suddenly turning to face him again. He was caught off guard by the intense anger reflected in her eyes, in her voice. "No, we're not. Don't you remember what you told me about her? _She_ was never a sideshow freak. _Her_ father never got rid of her, without giving a _shit_ about what happened to her. She stayed at home, and grew up with him and with her sister...her _own_ sister," she added bitterly. He winced at the reference to his earlier comment.

"But...Elphaba, those things that happened to you, they weren't your fault. I told you about Morrible, the sorceress who did this. Without her, none of what's happened to you—none of it would have ever happened."

"Do you know what she really did, Fiyero?" Her tone had lost some of its anger, but now held a deep sadness that was no less disturbing. "She convinced my father to do what he did. To completely wash his hands of me and never look back. And do you know how long that took her?"

Fiyero couldn't breathe, much less respond.

"Five minutes," she said. She smiled ruefully, a sudden deadness returning to her eyes. "Just to think, she went to all that trouble, traveled through time, all to just have a five minute conversation with a man who was all too glad to jump at the chance she offered. I watched him speak to her...I heard the relief in his voice. He took no convincing."

As much as he wanted to comfort her, Fiyero was at a loss. Besides, he could tell that she was so distant, so far from him as she recounted her horrible story, that even if he knew what to say, she wouldn't have heard him.

"It may be that the only difference between me and this other Elphaba," she continued, "is that her father was never given the opportunity mine was." She swallowed. "But...it's a big difference. Being able to see with such clarity exactly how much he hated me, and being reminded of the extent of his hatred every single day, for two years...that's always with me, Fiyero. It always will be. And it will always be part of who I am. Which is why I'm not—why I can never be—her."

Neither spoke for a long while. Finally, Elphaba gingerly placed the top back on the mirror's box and set it on the bench, between her and Fiyero.

"This is a beautiful gift, Fiyero. But I can't accept it...because it isn't for me." With that, she quietly picked up her book and stood. He stared morosely after her as she made her way back toward the castle.

Suddenly, without giving it much thought, he called out after her. "Do you know why I loved her?"

She stopped in her tracks, and stood in place rigidly, with her back to him.

"She was brilliant," he continued. "The smartest person I knew. Much smarter than me, and she knew it...I never minded though, because I learned more in the time I knew her than in the rest of my life combined. And she was kind. She gave so much of herself to everyone around her, even if it meant her own happiness. And...and she was strong. So many people tried to break her, but she never faltered, and she stood up for those who couldn't stand up for themselves."

Elphaba stood there, unmoving, and Fiyero got up and walked toward her.

"That's not to say that she was never afraid, or sad, or angry," he said softly. "There were moments where she raged at the world, where she mourned for those she'd lost, and where she feared for what was to come. After all, she was human. But...I loved her because she was all of those amazing things, but no less human for them."

He finally reached her, but still, she wouldn't turn to look at him.

"What happened in her life may have changed her some, but it didn't define her." He paused. "And it doesn't define you."

Finally, she turned to face him, tears running unchecked. "Maybe not, Fiyero," she said, her voice strained. "But...even so, what if I'm not...what if I'm not exactly what you remember?"

He shook his head. "I'm not asking you to be anything," he said. "And you know something else? The Elphaba I knew before...I didn't know her for very long. We met in college, but I only had a short time with her before she...disappeared for three years. I saw her again for, at most, a few days, and then lost her, when Morrible did her spell. I knew her enough to know that I loved her...but still, my feelings for her were all based on having known her for a very short time."

He paused, meeting her eyes. "I've known you for five years, Elphaba. And every day, you confirm for me the things that I loved so much about her. Your intelligence, your selflessness, your passion...that's _you_. No matter what she was...I see you. I know you. And...and...I think I love you." He hesitated, suddenly feeling incredibly embarrassed at how forward he had been. "Of course, I completely understand if you don't feel the same way," he added hurriedly, "but...I wanted you to know. That's all."

She met his eyes then. For a long time, they regarded one another silently, their only backdrop the stillness of the winter afternoon. And then suddenly, without thinking, without forethought, he moved closer to her. And they shared, what was for both of them, a first kiss.

* * *

Unbeknownst to them, they were being watched. Mira and Silam sat in the solarium, enjoying their afternoon tea, and casually taking in the scene unfolding before them.

Mira watched the children with a soft smile. Eventually she turned toward her husband, and quickly saw that he was experiencing a very different reaction. Displeasure combined with something akin to horror crossed his features.

She sighed, understanding his concern without his having to voice it. "I'm sure it's only puppy love, dear," she said. "Just a phase."

"Fiyero's far too old to be a puppy, Mira," Silam responded tightly. "The boy's of marriagable age."

The queen sighed. "So what if it's not? What if he does have genuine feelings for her?" she asked him. "What's the worst that could happen?"

He turned to her, frustrated. "The same thing that happened with us!" he responded hotly. He regretted his words as soon as they left him--as soon as he saw Mira's smile fade, her eyes become hard

"I see," she responded quietly, coldly.

"You know that's not how I meant it," he said softly, attempting to placate her. "I just...those were different times, Mira. We had the luxury of marrying for love. And though I wish Fiyero had that same luxury, he doesn't." The king sighed. "Oz is not what it once was. I feel uneasy about this new wizard. He has won the people's hearts with his charisma, with his promises. And with the following that he's developed, he has a frightening amount of power. Which means that alliances are more important now than they have ever been."

The queen was silent for a moment, considering his words. Finally, she spoke. "Her father is the governor of Munchinkland," she said softly.

"What?" he asked sharply, turning to her in surprise. "How do you know that?"

"Fiyero told me once," she explained, already beginning to question the wisdom of her revelation.

"And why did you not tell me?" he asked

She sighed. "Honestly, Silam, it didn't seem important."

"Not important?" he responded incredulously. "Of course it's important! All this time I believed we were sheltering an orphan. But a governor's daughter?" He shook his head. "Why is she still with us? Has he even been notified?"

She sighed. "He is not a kind man, Silam."

But the king didn't hear her, so lost was he in his own thoughts

"Even if he is not furious with us for keeping his daughter, even if he agreed to a marriage between the children, an alliance with Munchkinland would not be helpful for the Vinkus. That province has no resources. They would be completely dependent on ours, and offer nothing in return. Besides," the king continued thoughtfully, "I have spent a great deal of time in talks with a family in Gillikin--the Uplands, of the upper Uplands. They have a daughter near Fiyero's age. And that alliance would be much more beneficial."

The queen regarded him for a while in silence. When she spoke, it was with much sadness. "What happened to the man I married, Silam?" she asked softly. "When did he become so hardened?"

He looked up at her, surprised. "Mira, you must understand--"

"I understand quite well," she assured him coldly. "I understand that you'll do what you feel you must, for the good of the kingdom." She shook her head, tears springing to her eyes. "And all other consequences be damned."

She walked away. And Silam silently watched her go.

* * *

When she came to, Morrible found herself outside a very familiar tent. Upon entering, she encountered a very familiar man.

"You," she said, "where is the girl?"

He turned to look at her, startled. "The...the girl? What are you talking about? Who are you?"

"Don't be daft," she responded sharply. "Where is the child I gave you? The green freak? No doubt she's done much for your business."

A sudden recognition crossed the man's face. "Oh...you," he said. "Yes, I remember you."

"Of course you do," she snapped. "I only just gave you, free of charge, what has surely become your main attraction."

"Only just?" He looked at her as though she were mad. "It was seven years ago, woman. Human attractions in our line of work is frowned upon now," he told her. "Especially if they are unwilling."

She was silent for a moment, fuming. Of course she wouldn't have been fortunate enough to have gone back to the exact time she had traveled to before. Luck was apparently no longer on her side.

"So where is she, then?" she asked briskly. "What have you done with her?"

He regarded her hesitantly. There was something about the woman that gave him pause...that made him wary of displeasing her. "I sold her," he said finally. "There are some fair owners still brave enough to travel around with human attractions, even those who have been taken by force."

She sighed, impatient. "To whom did you sell her?"

He shrugged. "It's been years ago...I don't remember. I believe he was traveling to the Vinkus, or perhaps to Gillikin, but who's to say? I'm not for certain, and besides...he could be anywhere now. Or could've sold her again, to someone else. Our trade changes frequently, you see."

"Useless man," she spat, fuming. Without another word, she turned and strode out of the tent, forcefully pushing past its door flap.

Within minutes, she had successfully hailed a carriage, and directed it to take her in the direction of the Vinkan border.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: You know what? I love you guys. Thanks for all your reviews, they mean more than you know. And it's not that I don't update if there aren't many reviews, but reading reviews often inspires me to write faster. :) And Wicked's still not mine.**

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* * *

**Fiyero hadn't been sure about how his revelation and the subsequent kiss would change things between them. It turned out that it didn't...much. There was a little awkwardness at first, but for the most part, they carried on as they had before, their day-to-day interactions mostly unchanged.

Elphaba had returned his kiss that day. When it had ended and she had pulled away, she looked almost surprised at herself.

He'd stood there before her in a somewhat awkward silence. Finally, he asked her, "Was that...was that okay? I mean, are we okay?" He felt foolish at the cliched question, yet she seemed to understand his meaning.

Elphaba had studied the ground, flushed, a slight smile gracing her features. "Yeah," she'd responded softly. "Yeah, we're okay." She'd looked up at him then, and suddenly leaned in and kissed him again.

And that had been that. And here they were. Going to school, having dinner with the family, and acting mostly normal.

Of course, there were those moments when Fiyero would look up to see Elphaba studying him, only for her to look away quickly, flushing a deep emerald. And he would be remiss not to acknowledge that he had been guilty of the same. But those moments were fleeting, noticeable only to the two of them.

So they thought.

"Are you Fiyero's girlfriend now?" Isme casually asked Elphaba, as the three children sat in the classroom, awaiting the arrival of Ama Nori.

Elphaba had been reviewing her notes from the day before. Her head snapped up at Isme's question. Fiyero also swiveled around to face Isme, regarding his sister with surprise.

"What--?" Elphaba started, blanching slightly. "How do you...why do you think that?"

Isme rolled her eyes. "Well, it's kind of _obvious_," the little girl said dramatically. "The way you've been looking at each other all...googly."

"'Googly?'" Fiyero questioned, unable to stifle a smile.

"Yep," Isme confirmed. "But don't worry...it's not like I'd tell anyone."

Fiyero glanced at Elphaba, and the pure relief on her face caught him off guard. But why should it matter whether anyone knew? And by "anyone," of course, he meant his parents. He intended to spend the rest of his life with Elphaba. Whether they found that out now or later mattered little to him.

But he realized suddenly that it mattered a great deal to Elphaba. Her panic at Isme's question was all too clear. She was worried his parents would disapprove, and was terrified of the consequences of their disapproval. He recognized all of this, without her having to say it. And somehow he knew that even if he reassured her that nothing they said or did would change his feelings for her, that wouldn't be enough. His family meant a great deal to Elphaba...their disapproval of her would be devastating.

Before Isme's revelation could be hashed out further, Ama Nori appeared at the doorway.

"I have an announcement," she said briskly, setting her things on the desk, then picking up two large envelopes. "I have submitted your entrance applications to Shiz University. As it was the queen's alma mater, it was her desire to see you both finish your educations there."

"Us...both?" Elphaba asked with hesitant surprise.

"Well of course," the ama responded irritably. "Surely you don't believe that I have spent the last who-knows-how-many years of my life schooling you, all for you to not take your education to the next level?"

"No, I..."

"If you will give me a moment, Miss Elphaba," Ama Nori interrupted, her tone still a bit irritated, "I will explain everything."

She walked to Fiyero's desk, handing him one of the envelopes. "For the admission board's approval, I submitted your most recent essay regarding the new political structure that has formed around the wizard." She paused, looking at both the children meaningfully. "I imagine Miss Elphaba may have assisted you with that one, but I don't need to know. Anyway, it got you in, so good job...to the both of you," she added wryly. Elphaba at least had the grace to flush.

"As for you, Miss Elphaba," said Ama Nori as she approached the younger woman. "Congratulations." She handed her an envelope. "Your marvelous sociological essay on the consequences surrounding the segregation of Animals and humans garnered you not only admission into the Young Scholars program, but has also won you a partial scholarship for room and board."

Fiyero glanced toward Elphaba, and couldn't help but grin at the shock and excitement with which she regarded the admissions materials.

"What about me?" Isme had interjected, pouting.

"You, Miss Isme, are stuck with me for a while more, I'm afraid," said Ama Nori. She then turned back to the two older children. "The paperwork indicating your intention to attend must be submitted by Friday. At that point, the university will begin scheduling its new student orientations, which are to take place this summer. The semester will start in the fall."

She returned to her desk and flipped through a pile of papers, returning to them with the two for which she had been looking. "I have here the intention to enroll forms. Waiting until Friday makes me anxious...and besides, I doubt either of you would disappoint Her Majesty by attending another school."

Fiyero hesitated slightly before taking his form. Here, at the castle, he knew Elphaba was safe, with him. At Shiz...there were so many variables. So many things that had gone wrong before, and that could go wrong again. And...would Morrible be there? Of course, she must. But then he took a deep breath, and hardened his resolve. If she was there, so be it. Both he and Elphaba would be going, together, armed with knowledge about that woman and about what their futures had been, could be, and should be. They couldn't stay tucked away in the castle forever, anyway. And no matter where they were, he would die before he allowed anything to happen to her. So he signed his form with a flourish, handing it back to Ama Nori.

He looked over, surprised to see Elphaba still studying hers, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. "Do you have any questions, Miss Elphaba?" Ama Nori prodded after a moment.

"No...well, it's just...the scholarship covers room and board, you said?"

"Partial," the ama corrected. "Partial room and board."

Elphaba nodded, her expression becoming bleaker. "And no tuition."

Ama Nori shook her head, seemingly confused. "Well, no...but Miss Elphaba, you should view the scholarship as merely an honor, not a means to an end. It's very prestigious, for certain, make no mistake. And what it doesn't cover, the Royal Family will."

Elphaba drew a quick breath then, and almost subconsciously pushed the paper away from her. "I cannot ask that of them," she said falteringly.

The ama was nonplussed. "Her Majesty said you'd say that. And that if you did, I was to remind you, yet again, that the schooling you and Master Fiyero have received from me was not just some form of entertainment meant to whittle away the time. It was a jump-start for something better, grander. And it would be a great disappointment not only to me, but also to Her Majesty, were you to refuse such an opportunity."

Fiyero watched Elphaba carefully. If nothing else could change her mind, he knew that the fear of disappointing his mother would do it. She sighed, and slowly pulled the form to her and signed it, a small smile gracing her features.

* * *

"I hear you all received the wonderful news today?" Mira asked at that evening's dinner.

"Carting us off to university already, huh?" Fiyero said with a smile.

"No time like the present," the queen responded, glancing oddly and almost defiantly at her husband. He stared darkly at his plate. Fiyero frowned, wondering about his parents' strange behavior surrounding this matter. Surely they couldn't have known....

He glanced toward Elphaba, noticing the same question reflected in her eyes.

But then, if it had been so obvious to Isme, then why not to his parents?

Elphaba broke the uncomfortable silence. "It's...it's very kind of your majesties to...to make it possible for me to attend. If there's any way I can ever repay you..."

"You already have done, dear," Mira interrupted, glancing pointedly at Isme. "Many, many times over."

Elphaba smiled softly. "Well...thank you."

They ate in silence for a moment, when Mira suddenly spoke up again. "I actually have some news of my own today."

Everyone looked at her expectantly.

She smiled, taking Silam's hand in her own, which appeared to bring him out of his brooding state.

"I'm going to have another child."

There was a moment of shocked silence, then everything came alive.

"Oz, Mira, really?" The king exclaimed. She nodded, grinning, and he pulled her in for an uncharacteristically emotional kiss.

"Mama, will it be a girl?" Isme asked.

Mira smiled. "Would you want it to be?"

"Oh, _yes_," the younger girl was emphatic. "We don't need any more Fiyero's!"

Elphaba laughed at the little girl's dramatics, then turned to the queen. "Congratulations, Mira. That's wonderful."

Mira reached over and took the younger woman's hand. "Thank you dear. I can only hope that this little one will live up to the high standards set by my other children. I don't know what I did in my life to deserve all of you."

Elphaba gasped slightly at the implication of the queen's words. She'd often thought of Mira as a mother, but never hoped to believe that the sentiment would carry both ways. The knowledge that Mira apparently thought of her as a...as a daughter, and one whom she was actually _fortunate_ to have, caught Elphaba completely off guard.

Understanding how her words may have affected Elphaba, the queen gently squeezed the girl's hand and released it. She turned to Fiyero, who had been strangely silent through all of this. "And I suppose you would want another boy to even the playing field a bit, hm?"

He didn't respond, studying his plate. Suddenly he stood.

"May I be excused?" he asked, his voice rough. "I have...I have to get to my studies."

The queen arched a brow. "Since when have you ever rushed off to do homework? Who is this young man and what exactly has he done with my son?" she teased.

Fiyero wouldn't look at her. He stared at the ground, his jaw tightening. Finally, "Excuse me," he repeated, then turned and walked from the dining hall.

The other diners stared after him. Elphaba glanced at the queen, and the hurt in her eyes as she watched Fiyero leave was palpable.

And seeing that hurt made Elphaba furious. She didn't know what reason Fiyero had for acting as he did, but hurting his mother—an amazing, kind, giving woman—in a time when her family should be supportive and excited for her...that was inexcusable.

She stood. "Excuse me, your majesties," she said more gently than he had moments earlier. "Allow me to go...see what troubles him."

"Of course, dear," the queen said distractedly.

The king had gone back to staring at his plate, irritated at the idea that this girl would have any additional opportunity to be alone with his son.

* * *

Elphaba soon found him, true to his word, studying in the empty classroom. She watched him for a moment, at a loss.

"Exactly what just happened back there?" she finally asked.

He ignored her, his back to her. He only spoke after a long while, when he could tell she hadn't left yet. "Did you need something?" he asked coldly.

Elphaba approached him, undeterred. She'd seen this Fiyero before, and he didn't frighten her. If anything, he made her stubborn.

She sat down across from him, facing him. "Yeah, I do need something," she said. "I need to know just why you found yourself _completely_ incapable of congratulating your mother. For Oz sake, Fiyero, even if you're not thrilled about the new baby, you could at least be supportive. Your mother has done enough for you over the years. Don't you owe it to her to share in her joy?"

"Just...shut up," he said harshly. "Shut up. You don't know what you're saying."

Elphaba stared at him for a moment with a frown, suddenly certain that something was very wrong.

"Fiyero...?" she ventured tentatively. "What...what's going on?"

He wouldn't look at her. He was silent for so long that she was beginning to think he wouldn't answer her either.

Then suddenly: "She's going to die."

Elphaba looked up at him, horrified, and certain she'd misheard. "What?"

"The...the baby," he rasped. "It comes too soon. It dies and....and my mother. It takes her with it."

Elphaba shook her head, not understanding. "But...Fiyero, how could you possibly know...." Her question trailed off, her eyes beginning to reflect the horror of understanding.

He confirmed her realization. "It's happened before," he choked. "Right before I went to university. And...it's happening again. Now. I just...part of me wanted to think that somehow, things would be different this time."

She wasn't sure what to say, how to comfort him. "Well....you don't know. Maybe they will," she tried softly.

They sat there for a moment more, then suddenly he stood and strode from the room. "I'm tired," he muttered by way of explanation. And he left her sitting there.

Elphaba felt sick. If Fiyero hadn't come back for her, he wouldn't have to live through losing his mother a second time. Just as if she had never been born, her own mother would never have died.

Always, somehow, it was her fault. And she was never able to make things right, make them okay for the people they hurt.

But her eyes widened suddenly....maybe this time.

She jumped off her chair and raced to find Yackle.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: So...I don't have too much to say about this chapter. Except please read and review.**

**Wicked's not mine.**

* * *

"Absolutely not."

Elphaba could only stare at the old woman, shock and dismay silencing her for a moment. "What? But...why?"

Yackle appeared angrier than she ever had before. "Time travel is not something to be meddled with. I have always thought the practicing and refining of that spell to be a dangerous mistake." She glared at Elphaba. "You've asked me about it before...I suspected your questions went deeper than a desire to satisfy a mere curiosity."

Elphaba studied the floor and took a deep breath. "But...I'm simply asking you to do a healing spell. I only told you about the time travel spell to explain how Fiyero knew--"

Yackle interrupted her. "You are asking me to change something that happened in the past, so that it does not happen again. Correct?"

"Well...yes," the girl replied softly.

"The very reason that time travel is dangerous is because it allows one the opportunity to alter history in innumerable ways. Dangerous, chaotic ways. After all, it allowed this sorceress you speak of to alter your past in a very...dramatic way, did it not?"

Elphaba flinched at the words, and nodded slightly. "But...it also allowed Fiyero to come back and help me."

"That's all very well," Yackle said dismissively. "But there's no need to make more unnecessary alterations."

Elphaba looked up at her then, her eyes flashing with anger. "'Unnecessary alterations?' Saving Mira's life would be an 'unnecessary alteration?'"

"Yes," Yackle responded firmly. "People die. Every day. Some are mourned, some are not. Many don't live as long as they'd like to, or as their families would like them to. But death happens. And it's necessary."

Yackle's cold reality made Elphaba's blood run cold, and she panicked at the realization that the old sorceress was altogether opposed to intervening. "Mira's a good woman," she tried once more, fighting back tears. "She doesn't deserve to die. And Fiyero doesn't deserve to lose her all over again."

"If he didn't want to lose her again," the old woman responded flatly, "then he shouldn't have come back in the first place."

* * *

Fiyero lay on his bed, flat on his back and staring miserably at the ceiling.

His mother's death was a memory that he'd fought against for years. The flippant, come-what-may attitude that he'd adopted when he'd begun university had truly been an act of desperation. He had forced himself to appear carefree, thinking that maybe if he pretended long enough, it would actually become his reality.

It never had. Instead of helping him to forget the loss of his mother, the shallow mask he'd worn had become painful, until Fiyero felt as though he'd begun to lose himself.

But then he'd met Elphaba, and she had seen straight through him. She'd perceived his unhappiness, and confronted him with it. She'd allowed him to drop his act, and to realize that he could come back to himself...he could care again, and still be okay.

At that moment, the thought of Elphaba made him feel even worse. She hadn't deserved to be at the receiving end of his anger that evening. It was perfectly natural that she should question his abominable behavior at the dinner table. But he had needed to lash out at someone, and she had chosen that inopportune moment to come find him.

That was no excuse, though, and he knew it. So he went to find her...to apologize.

He reached her bedroom and found the door closed. Unsure of whether she was already sleeping, he knocked quietly.

In a moment, the door opened slightly. The room was dark, lit only by the moon. She stood in the doorway, and looked up at him, her expression despondent, her eyes haunted.

His stomach turned as he realized that his coldness toward her had led to her current distress. But before he could apologize, she beat him to it.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered brokenly. Her words went beyond the expression of sympathy—they seemed to desperately seek his forgiveness, although he couldn't imagine why.

Before he could ask her, she continued. "I...I went to talk to Yackle, to see if she could help. I told her about the time-travel spell, so that she would understand how you knew what...what was going to happen to your mother."

She swallowed, fighting back tears. "She was furious that you had gone back in time at all, and she refused to do anything that would further alter the past. _Anything_."

He was silent for a moment. "At least you tried," he managed softly.

She met his eyes then, her own tortured. "You shouldn't have to go through this again, Fiyero." She shook her head and looked away. "And you wouldn't have to...if not for me."

"Hey," he reached out and took her hands in his, and she flinched at the contact. "This isn't your fault," he pressed on. "I made the choice to come back, to relive this part of my life, good, bad, or indifferent. And I'd do it again, a hundred times over." He paused, noting the pained uncertainty in her eyes. "This will be hard, Elphaba. It was hard before, and it will be again. But at least...at least this time, I'll have you with me."

A choked sob escaped her. He pulled her to him, holding her close and breathing in the woodsy scent of her hair, trying to lose himself in it. He closed his eyes, and wished, in that moment, that time could just stand still.

* * *

Two months later, Mira went into labor. Caught by surprise at the unexpected and concerning development, the castle staff hurried around in a frenzied chaos. Since the child was not due for four months, the midwife was not yet in residence, and two Vinkan soldiers were sent forth to escort her to the castle as quickly as possible.

As soon as she arrived, the midwife rushed into the queen's bedroom and closed the door. Right outside, Silam paced and the children sat against the wall, Elphaba holding a frightened Isme on her lap. Seconds seemed like hours as they waited. For a long while, they heard nothing but an occasional moan from Mira. Then suddenly, there came a heart-wrenching sob.

A few minutes later, the midwife came out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind her. She approached Silam and spoke to him in hushed tones. But in the otherwise silent hallway, the children could hear her.

"She's lost the child...and there's too much blood. There's nothing to be done." A pause. "You should go to her."

Confused and afraid, Isme called out to her father. "Is Mama okay?"

Silam turned and regarded the little girl silently, his expression tormented. Unable to answer her, he turned and rushed into Mira's bedroom.

"What's wrong?" Isme tried again tearfully, her question now directed at the older children.

Elphaba hesitated a moment before answering. "Your Mama's sick," she said softly. "The baby came too soon."

"But...she'll be okay, right?"

Elphaba bit her lower lip, stealing a sideways glance at Fiyero. He sat staring straight ahead, blankly, as though distancing himself from all that was going on around him.

Finally, she responded to the little girl's question. "I don't know, Isme...I hope so."

And she did. She desperately clung to some sliver of hope that things would go differently this time...that somehow, history wouldn't repeat itself.

When the king finally exited the room, he looked infinitely older than he had when he entered. Once a man who consistently radiated a sense of power, he now appeared defeated. Broken.

He did not look at the children when he spoke. "She wants to see you," he finally managed. "All of you." With that, he walked away, shoulders slumped.

"Come on, Isme," Elphaba said quietly. They all stood, and shuffled into the bedroom.

Mira was propped up against a pillow, her face startlingly pale. She shone with perspiration, and her hair clung to her damp skin. She smiled weakly when they entered.

Isme, who had come into the room slightly ahead of Fiyero and Elphaba, stopped suddenly upon seeing her mother. She stood in place, startled and afraid by the vast change in Mira's appearance.

The queen's eyes rested on her youngest, her expression conveying understanding and sympathy for the frightened child. She reached out a trembling had toward the little girl.

"Come here, baby."

Slowly, Isme walked toward her mother until she stood at the bedside. Mira reached out and gently touched her daughter's cheek.

"Do you know how much I love you, sweetheart?"

Isme drew in a shaky breath, her lower lip trembling. "Yes, Mama."

Mira smiled. "I love you with all my heart," she continued gently. "And no matter what happens, I always will. You have to remember that, okay?"

The child responded in a tearful whimper. "Okay."

Mira took Isme's hand in her own, and glanced over toward Fiyero and Elphaba. They walked over to her, Fiyero taking a seat on the edge of her bed, and Elphaba standing behind Isme, gently resting her hands on the little girl's shoulders.

"I'm so proud of you both," Mira said. "I have had the privilege and the joy of watching the two of you grow up into kind, resilient, amazing people. And I know that no matter in what you do in your life, you will do it with unfaltering honor and grace."

She closed her eyes, seemingly overcome by a moment of weariness or by a wave of emotion. "I'm not sure what I ever did to deserve all of you, but I will be forever grateful to whatever god brought each of you into my life."

The room became silent for a moment. Suddenly Mira drew a sharp breath, and a soft moan escaped her.

"Mama?" Isme's voice quavered.

Mira smiled weakly at her little girl, though pain was evident in her eyes. "It's alright, Isme. I just...I need to rest now."

No one moved to leave at first, as though they all knew what it would mean to walk out the door. Finally, Elphaba took Isme's hand. Her eyes met Mira's, communicating a difficult, unspoken goodbye. Then she led the child from the room, Fiyero following close behind.

They stood right outside the doorway, mute and off kilter in their grief.

Finally, Fiyero spoke for the first time in the last several hours. "I should go check on my father," he said, his voice harsh with the effort not to cry.

"I want to come, too," Isme said quietly, going to her brother and taking his hand.

Fiyero looked to Elphaba. She shook her head slightly—her relationship with the king had always been distant, and she knew that she would be no comfort to him now. Fiyero nodded, swung Isme up in his arms, and left to find Silam.

Elphaba stood alone in the hallway. She drew a shaky breath and let it out in a sob. Leaning against the marble wall, she stared dismally and unseeing at the arched ceiling, lost in thought. Finally, with new resolve, she slipped back into Mira's room.

The queen appeared to be sleeping, a pained expression etched across her features. Her breathing was labored now, and often interrupted by quiet moans of discomfort.

Elphaba approached her quietly and determinedly, but nevertheless a little afraid. She gently placed a trembling hand on Mira's shoulder.

Then she closed her eyes. She concentrated with all of her being. And she began to whisper the spell she had committed to memory...the spell that Yackle had forbidden her to perform again.

For a while, nothing happened. Then, all at once, Elphaba felt a stabbing pain in her abdomen. She gasped, but steadied herself and continued, her voice wavering ever so slightly. The pain spread through her, until she began to feel unsteady on her feet.

But still she persisted. Until suddenly, she felt a trembling hand grab her own. Her eyes flew open in surprise, to find Mira awake.

"Stop this," the queen said, her voice little more than a whisper. She moved Elphaba's hand off of her shoulder.

Elphaba stared at her, her eyes wide and tormented.

"I know...what you're doing," Mira said haltingly and with obvious effort. "I know what you did for Isme, and while I would never have asked that of you, I am grateful. But I will most certainly not allow you to do the same for me."

Elphaba swallowed the painful lump rising in her throat. "But...you've done so much for me," she finally managed tearfully. "Why won't you let me repay you?"

The queen watched her silently for a moment, with such gentleness and love in her eyes that Elphaba was forced to look away.

"You wish to repay me?" she finally said. "I will ask something of you, then. Look after my son. Be with him, even when he acts as though he doesn't need anyone. I don't think that he's as strong as he believes himself to be. But I see such strength in you, Elphaba." She paused, then looked at the young woman meaningfully. "And he loves you. I think he always has."

Elphaba didn't trust herself to speak. After a moment, the queen's eyes fluttered closed, and her breathing grew weaker. Not knowing what else to do, Elphaba sat on the edge of the bed and held Mira's hand, until she had breathed her last.

* * *

It snowed on the day of the queen's funeral. There was a large procession, led by the king, stoic in his grief. Per Vinkan custom, Silam and Fiyero carried Mira's casket, aided by four highly ranked officers. The rest of the household, including not only Isme and Elphaba, but also Ama Nori, Yackle, Salki, and the Royal Family's few other servants, followed close behind.

The silence of the winter afternoon was broken only by Isme's quiet sobs. The little girl was so upset that she had exhausted herself, and Elphaba now carried her through the procession. During the service, Isme had become hysterical, and Elphaba had finally walked them out of the chapel and sat with her, holding her close and allowing her to cry without restraint. Elphaba couldn't help but think that the child was grieving as one should grieve a loss. The hushed solemnity of the other mourners seemed unhealthy, as though they were holding inside something that would destroy them if they continued to stifle it.

And so it was with concern that Elphaba watched Fiyero. His face was a mask, his expression unreadable. On occasion, she thought she saw a flicker of torment cross his person, but then it was gone. There was a...nothingness to him that disturbed her. Once or twice he had glanced at Isme with something akin to irritation, as though her raw grief grated on him. But then he would turn back to his task, and the nothingness would return.

They reached the burial site. The priest said a few words, and the coffin was lowered into the ground. Again per custom, each family member walked up and dropped a clod of dirt into the grave. When it came Isme's turn, Elphaba approached the grave and knelt with the little girl still in her arms. Isme stood, trembling, and tossed a handful of earth onto her mother's coffin, then turned and buried her face into Elphaba's shoulder.

The services ended, the mourners returned to the castle. But Elphaba suddenly realized that Fiyero was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

Fiyero wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting on the stone bench in the garden, staring at his mother's lantern roses. She'd always tended them lovingly, as she did everything else. She had been pleased that even in the Vinkus's brutal winter, something so beautiful could thrive.

It must have been cold, if the clouds formed by his breath were any indication. But Fiyero couldn't feel it. He couldn't feel anything, really. Part of him wanted to feel, wanted to mourn, wanted to release this horrible, painful pressure that seemed to be destroying him from the inside out. But somehow, he couldn't.

So he sat. And he stared. And he hurt.

And suddenly, he heard soft footsteps crunching in the snow. He heard her walk up to him, felt her sit down beside him. Her hand came to rest on his hand, her long, green, delicate fingers intertwining with his.

Finally, he was able to cry, the choking sobs shaking him. And she sat with him through it all, through the night.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: Hi all! Thank you so much for all the reviews for my last chapter. I wish I could have updated sooner in appreciation for those reviews, but a little bit of writer's block got in the way. Please keep them coming though, and I'll try to update a little faster, depending on how cooperative my muse is. :)**

**Wicked's not mine.**

**

* * *

**

In the following months, the castle became and remained devoid of the warmth that had once permeated it. There was a somber quiet that filled its halls. It was enough to drive a person mad, Fiyero thought. He took some solace in knowing that, however close he'd once come to falling victim to a bitter rage and depression following his mother's death, he'd made it through. And he would make it through again.

He'd tried to reign in his emotions, in part for Elphaba's sake. He often caught her watching him, her eyes a reflecting pool of not only concern but of guilt. It pained him to know that she still somehow blamed herself for his grief. And on top of that, he knew that she too grieved the loss of Mira. She seemed to push past it, as though not wanting to add to his suffering in any way.

As he thought of the relationship between Mira and Elphaba, the pain of losing his mother increased tenfold. Fiyero wasn't sure that he alone could have helped the frightened, cowed little girl he'd found at the fair transition into the amazing, self-assured young woman that Elphaba had become. Without any question or hesitation, his mother had taken her in, confronted many of her fears, and made her feel safe. And loved. She'd given Elphaba the mother that she'd never had, in this life or the last.

Mira had, indeed, been an amazing woman.

Her absence had also greatly affected his father. The king had always been a hard man, but Mira had tempered him some with her gentleness. When she felt strongly about something, Silam would almost always give way, albeit reluctantly. His adoration of her had always been evident, despite his otherwise gruff countenance. But now, there was nothing to smooth his rough edges...no one to gently remind him that his kingly duties should not always usurp his fatherly ones.

The change in his father became especially evident at the dinner table one evening, two months after Mira's passing.

The four of them were eating silently, as was now so often the case.

Silam abruptly broke the silence.

"We are to have guests next week," he told Fiyero. "The Prime Minister of Gillikin and his family."

Fiyero glanced up from his meal, surprised. "So...soon? I mean, after mother..." he asked delicately.

The king's eyes seemed to harden, and he gave a curt nod. "I've invited them to have an audience with us. And I shan't mince words, Fiyero. He has a daughter close to your age. She's set to begin Shiz in your class. It is essential that the Vinkus build a strong alliance with Gillikin, so it is important that you...make an _acquaintance_ with this young lady." Despite his weak effort to be subtle, the king's meaning was clear.

Fiyero was caught off guard, and paled slightly. He had been curious about how his--and Elphaba's--reunion with Glinda would come about, but he had assumed it would be at Shiz. Not like this. Never like this.

He glanced over at Elphaba. She would not look at him, but was suddenly studying her plate intently, her expression unreadable.

If the king had noticed the silent exchange between the two, he did not let on. "Do we understand one another, Fiyero?"

Fiyero's jaw tightened, and he looked back at his father defiantly. "I don't think--" he started.

"I'm not asking you to _think_," Silam snapped. "I asked you if you understood what I said to you."

A long, uncomfortable pause followed. "I understand," Fiyero said darkly.

* * *

Elphaba went through the motions of putting Isme to bed that night. Her stomach was tied up in a heavy, nauseating knot, and her thoughts raced until she felt a headache coming on.

She supposed she always knew that something like this would happen. Fiyero was a prince, after all. And Lurline knew she was no princess. She wasn't anyone of any import, as was this Gillikenese girl, apparently. She felt a twang as she remembered her birthright as a Thropp Third Descending—but of course, her father would never claim her, nor would she want him to. The title had never meant anything to her. She was sure it now belonged to Nessarose, and she didn't envy her that.

Except now, it might have mattered. To the king...to Fiyero. It might have made her worthy...

She shook her head, irritated at her wishful thinking. She should be grateful for what she had. A home, and one that was a palace, no less. And although he seemed barely tolerant of her at times, the king had been kind enough to allow her to live there for years. In Isme, she'd found a sister who had filled the void of the one she'd lost. Fiyero had been her savior, and now was her...friend. And Mira had shown her more love than she'd thought was possible...probably more than she deserved.

Elphaba bit her lip as she thought of Mira, and remembered the queen's dying words to her. _Be with him..._ She drew a deep breath, and steeled herself, realizing that the queen's request could be fulfilled in other ways. Of course she would always be there for Fiyero. She needn't be his girlfriend, or lover, or wife to do that. She would be his friend...his confidant...

But no more than that.

Now as Elphaba thought back to her promise to the dying queen, she convinced herself that Mira had meant for her to be no more than that. She must've realized that anything more would be impractical...impossible. The queen couldn't possibly have wanted a green castoff for her son.

Elphaba _wasn't_ worthy...and she could never allow herself to forget that.

"Elphie?" Isme mercifully interrupted Elphaba's tormented train of thought.

"Hm?" Elphaba answered as she tucked the quilt around the little girl.

"Are you okay? You look sad."

Elphaba smiled slightly, touched by the child's intuitiveness. She gently brushed Isme's hair back from her face. "Yeah, I'm okay," she answered. "I'm just...thinking about your mama."

Isme nodded, her wide eyes serious. "I miss her, too."

* * *

Fiyero waited for Elphaba outside of Isme's bedroom. He was furious with his father. Silam had never tried to force some arranged marriage on him before...in his other life. He was certain the king's actions this time were inspired by his recognition of Fiyero's feelings for Elphaba.

So she had been right in wanting to hide it from his parents. And perhaps he should have been more careful to do so. Maybe it would have prevented _this_.

But as furious as he was, he knew it didn't matter. He didn't give a damn about what his father's plans were for him. He hadn't lived through all of this just to lose her again.

He had to make sure she knew that.

Elphaba walked out of the bedroom, quietly closing Isme's door behind her. She turned, and seemed startled to find him waiting for her.

"Fiyero?"

"I'm sorry," he blurted.

She frowned in confusion. "What? Why?"

"For...dinner. What my father said...or rather, what he implied."

"Oh." She glanced down, studying her hands.

"It doesn't matter, you know," he rushed on. "What he wants, what he's planned...none of it matters."

She was silent for a long while, until he began to think that she wouldn't respond. But finally, quietly, she did.

"Of course it does."

It was his turn to be confused. "What do you mean, 'of course it does'? It doesn't! He can't force me to do anything. He might have all kinds of plans for me, but that doesn't mean I have to abide by them." Again she wouldn't respond, and her silence both frightened and frustrated him. "I love you, Elphaba!" he said finally, wanting to elicit some reaction from her. "For Oz sake, you have to know that by now?"

She looked away from him then, and protectively crossed her arms across her chest. She drew a shaky breath and closed her eyes, as though in an effort to compose herself. When she finally looked at him again, she seemed harder than before.

"So what are you going to do, then, Fiyero?" The coldness of her tone surprised him. "Run off with me, to some little hideaway? Completely shirk your duties to the kingdom? Is that your plan?"

He found himself hurt by the bitter sarcasm with which she confronted him...especially since that, in fact, had sort of been his plan.

"Well..." he tried tentatively. "We'll be going to Shiz soon. It's not as though my father will be following us there."

She laughed mirthlessly. "No, but didn't you hear what he said? _She'll_ be there, whoever she is. And you'll be expected to...to court her. Spend time with her. Become better 'acquainted' with her." She threw his father's words back at him.

Fiyero shook his head. "But...don't you understand? I don't care what I'm expected to do...expectations be damned."

She shook her head. "You're being ridiculous, Fiyero."

"No, _you_ are," he responded, suddenly angry. "If you think for a minute that I'll even entertain the idea of marrying some stranger over you just because my father has arranged it, then you're not as smart as I thought you were."

He thought he saw a flicker of emotion in her eyes, but it was so fleeting that he wondered if he had imagined it.

"Fiyero," she said evenly. "I'm not going to be responsible for causing a rift between you and your father. I'm not going to let you give up everything for me."

"But..._you're_ everything." He was suddenly reminded of an earlier time in another life, when he had told her the same thing, as they knelt in the forest, breathless from their escape, him delighted to have found her again, her tentative about the choice he had made. Then, that line, and the sentiment behind it, had reassured her. Had convinced her that nothing she could say would make him leave.

But this time, she was not so easily convinced.

She swallowed, and pressed on. "I do care about you, Fiyero. And...I want to be your friend, always, if you'll let me. But if you don't let this go...whatever else you think there is between us...then I'll leave."

He looked at her, shocked. "Leave? But...where would you go?"

She shrugged, glancing away from him. "I don't know. And you won't either."

With that, she turned and walked away from him. He watched her go, confused and tormented, and wholly unaware that she had left him so quickly so that he wouldn't see her cry.

* * *

Morrible had almost given up. No matter how much she hated Elphaba, no matter how awful a life sentence in Southstairs was, she was too old and too tired to travel all over Oz in an attempt to find a green needle in a haystack.

But just as she had almost thrown in the towel, a stroke of luck came her way.

"A green girl, you say?"

Morrible nodded irritably. This was the eleventh fair owner she'd spoken with over the last three months. She was growing quite tired of these people and the dirty, smelly tents they inhabited.

"My old friend Gorgus used to travel around with a lil' green freak. She was like nothing you ever seen. Brought in a pretty penny, too. I tried to buy her off him once, but he refused. She was his meal ticket. I was glad later that he wouldn't sell her to me. Lil' bitch turned out to be a handful...ran away from him. He hadn't even had her a year."

"Ran away from him?" Morrible asked, disappointed. If Elphaba wasn't even being passed along in the freak show trade anymore, she really wouldn't have any idea where to find her.

He nodded, eager to tell her his story. "Yep. Damndest thing you ever heard. She somehow broke outta her cage one night and ran off, taking all his Animals with her. But he figured it out, caught her, brought her back, and thought that was that. Then, outta nowhere, this other kid runs up and hits him over the head. When he came to, they was gone. He spent weeks lookin' all over the Vinkus for her, but she was _long_ gone. Never found her. Shame, too...she was a good one. I sure wouldn't have let her get away," he finished bitterly.

Morrible smiled, as the pieces suddenly began to come together. "So this was in the Vinkus, you say? And the child that hit him...it was a boy, I assume?"

The man shrugged. "Don't 'magine it was a girl. Woulda taken a lot of strength to knock ol' Gorgus out."

Without another word, Morrible turned and walked away, stepping back into the carriage she'd rented.

"Where to now?" The driver asked her. He'd been with her constantly over the past months, and she'd paid him handsomely for it.

She didn't respond right away, still thinking. So the little prince had found her. She'd assumed as much, but had hoped she had arrived at a time before that had occurred...it would have made her task easier if she'd found Elphaba still encaged, as was appropriate for the little freak she was. But at least now she knew...

They had been young then, it seemed. Most likely unable to survive on their own. So, where would he have taken her?

Her smile widened--it would have been disturbing to anyone who witnessed it. This last trip would be a long journey, most likely lasting another several weeks, at least. But if she was right...and she knew she was...it would be the end of her travels. Hopefully she wouldn't be too late to fix the wrong that the prince had so inconveniently righted.

She directed the driver to take her to the castle where the Vinkan royal family resided.

"Kiamo Ko?" he asked her for clarification.

She sighed irritably. "No," she responded. "The other castle."


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Sorry for the delay--this chapter was kind of tricky. Not sure how happy I am with it. Curious to know your thoughts, so please review! :)**

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Morrible was halfway to the Vinkus when she had a terrifying realization. She had been concentrating with such intensity on locating Elphaba that she hadn't been thinking about where she herself should be, right then. At this point in history, Morrible certainly hadn't been traveling all over Oz on a wild goose chase. Rather, she had been at Shiz, preparing for the arrival of new students.

So Morrible wasn't where she was expected to be. She needed to get to Shiz to take her place as Head Shiztress, and fast. To not do so might drastically affect her own future.

Besides, if she wasn't mistaken, this year's incoming class included one Elphaba Thropp. Of course, the girl might not attend the University...her life path may have led her elsewhere. But still...Morrible held high hopes that getting to the green girl may have just become exponentially easier.

* * *

Fiyero hadn't been told, nor had he cared to ask, the exact date that the Uplands were expected to arrive. Their sudden appearance therefore came as a bit of a shock.

That morning, Ama Nori had asked that he, Elphaba, and Isme each conduct literary research—Isme was assigned one relatively short novel, while he and Elphaba had been instructed to work together on a paper analyzing the bibliography of a prolific author.

The two of them hadn't spoken at any length recently. Elphaba had done her best to avoid him, but he hadn't made himself readily accessible to her, either. He told himself it was because he was angry. Why should he want to talk with her? She'd basically told him he was an idiot for wanting to be with her, for loving her... She'd had the nerve to act as though she, better than he, knew what was best for him. He'd given his heart to her, and she'd called him ridiculous.

So he told himself he avoided her because he was furious with her. But honestly, he knew it wasn't that. He knew that he was afraid that if he talked to her, he wouldn't be able to keep from trying to convince her that she was wrong. And if he did that, she would leave. She would make good on that threat, despite the fact that she had absolutely nowhere else to go. And that was a sacrifice he wouldn't let her make.

Now, Fiyero found himself anxious about this research assignment, terrified that he would screw up when he was forced to talk with her, and say something that would drive her away.

He was determined to just focus on the project. But who was he kidding? His attention span when it came to schoolwork was...lacking. Elphaba typically helped him with his papers, and since they'd first kissed, his tendency was to interrupt her help with shameless flirting. She'd pretended to be irritated, which he found particularly endearing.

But this time, there would be no pretense. And there would be no flirting. There was too much on the line. Her ultimatum was terrifying to him, and it made, and would continue to make, things painfully awkward between them.

So it was with an uncomfortable silence that they proceeded to the castle's library to locate their books, Isme in tow.

But when they arrived, they found the library already occupied.

Silam and three other people—only one who Fiyero recognized—sat in overstuffed chairs near the fireplace. When Elphaba, Fiyero, and Isme entered, Silam stood with a smile.

"What perfect timing! Prime Minister, Lady Upland, allow me to introduce you to my children, Fiyero and Isme." He then turned his attention to Fiyero. "Son, you are surely familiar with the Uplands, of the Upper Uplands? But I don't believe you've met their daughter, Miss Galinda."

He'd known they were coming. He'd expected to see her. Yet nothing quite prepared him for the shock, for the horrible, heavy feeling in his stomach. He hadn't realized the extent to which he had dreaded this moment, until it was actually upon him.

He glanced over at Elphaba, who stood stiffly next to him. The blood had drained from her face, and she clutched her notebook so tightly that the whites of her knuckles were visible. She was clearly uncomfortable. But he frowned as he realized it was more than that...she looked afraid.

He suddenly understood, with a sinking feeling, the origin of her fear. Elphaba rarely met new people. The castle was, after all, relatively secluded, so the Royal Family typically kept to themselves. He knew, on some level, that Elphaba took comfort in that seclusion...in not having to face strangers, who might be curious, and quite possibly unkind about their curiosity. He took a deep breath, desperately hoping that Galinda would not be so unkind.

As if on cue, Galinda interrupted his thoughts. She stood, and offered a curtsy. "It's a pleasure," she murmured.

"Um...likewise," he rasped. He glanced at her then, briefly meeting her eyes. There was something...strange, there, as she looked at him. But he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was, so he brushed it off. It didn't matter. Galinda didn't matter. This whole ridiculous _meeting_ didn't matter.

But the king obvious thought otherwise. "I was just preparing to give the prime minister and Lady Upland a tour of the grounds. Fiyero, why don't you stay here, and I'll have tea brought up for you and Miss Galinda."

The king hesitated, and when he spoke again, his voice reflected a strained harshness. "Elphaba, I believe it's time you assisted Isme with her homework."

Fiyero's jaw clenched. He wasn't sure what angered him more—that his father was clearly directing Elphaba to leave, or that he was talking to her much like one would a servant.

"Of course," Elphaba responded quietly, turning to usher Isme out the door.

Fiyero glared at his father defiantly. "I don't believe Isme has homework today. And even supposing she does, she typically doesn't do it until much later." Fiyero steadily held the king's glowering gaze, as though daring him to press the issue.

Before Silam could reply, Isme piped up. "I hardly have any, father! And I don't wish to do it right away. Elphie can help me with it after dinner."

Suddenly, Galinda interjected. "And with all due respect, your Majesty," she said, "I don't feel that it's...proper, for the prince and I to have tea without a chaperone. Perhaps it would be best for Miss--Elphaba, is it?--to stay."

Fiyero looked over at Galinda, shocked at her unexpected intervention. He again had a strange feeling that something was off about her. Different.

For his part, the king seemed embarrassed. "Of...of course, you're right, Miss Galinda. Forgive me. I wasn't thinking. I'll have tea sent up for all four of you." He turned to his other guests. "Prime Minister, Lady Upland, if you'd care to join me?"

With that, he left them. Fiyero was somewhat relieved that Elphaba was staying, despite their coolness toward one another as of late. Isme seemed thrilled about not having to do her homework, and was currently ignoring them in favor of attempting to play with the cat resting by the fireplace. Even Galinda seemed oddly pleased.

Elphaba was the only one of the four who looked decidedly unhappy about the arrangement. She sat stiffly in a chair, her hands clenched together in her lap, her eyes cast to the ground.

An awkward silence enveloped the room.

Then, suddenly, Galinda clapped her hands together. Fiyero glanced over at her, to find her grinning.

"I can't believe it! It worked!" She giggled, her demure demeanor seeming to dissolve quite suddenly.

The other three stared at her, baffled.

"What...worked?" Fiyero managed.

Galinda rolled her eyes. "The spell, of course, what else? I mean, here you are, and here she is, so, it must've worked, right?"

Fiyero's eyes widened. She couldn't possibly mean...

Galinda sighed, but was still smiling. "I was so afraid it hadn't. Because as soon as I left the castle, on the day that I performed it, I began to feel strangely dizzy," she explained. "I blacked out, and when I woke up, I was ten years old again. It was absolutely _bizarre_."

Fiyero's mind was still reeling, but he began to digest what he was hearing. "You mean...you sent yourself back, too?" Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Elphaba glance over at him, still utterly confused.

Galinda nodded. "I hadn't meant to, of course. And you know, all this time, I thought I'd sent _only_ myself back, instead of you. I couldn't believe how badly I'd messed things up." She glanced apologetically at Elphaba. "I tried to make the best of it, though. I tried to find you. But I couldn't. And so all this time, I've felt like a horrible, _horrible_ failure."

Despite her characteristic dramatics, Fiyero could tell that Galinda was sincere. He smiled, and glanced over at Elphaba, who seemed to have temporarily forgotten her shyness, and was staring at Galinda as though the other girl had come from another planet. Fiyero grinned at the thought...because really, it wasn't too far off.

He decided that proper introductions were—finally--in order. "Elphaba, Galinda—Galinda, Elphaba. Elphaba, Galinda's the mutual friend I told you about, who performed the time travel spell."

"Oh!" Elphaba's eyes suddenly reflected understanding. "Of course..."

Galinda smiled at her. "It's so nice to finally meet you," she said. "I've heard quite a lot about you. Or rather, who you used to be. Or who you still are, I guess! It's so incredibly odd, how all this time traveling works, isn't it?"

Elphaba hesitated, her nervousness returning.

Galinda continued, unfazed by the other girl's discomfort. "Fiyero told me we were apparently very good friends. Isn't that interesting? I thought it was interesting. I'd very much like to see if we might be friends again. Wouldn't you?"

Elphaba shifted in her chair. "I...suppose so," she responded. Fiyero grimaced sympathetically. It was evident to him that she felt overwhelmed. Galinda could certainly be overwhelming.

Galinda seemed genuinely happy at her response. "Oh, good." She paused, watching Elphaba thoughtfully. When she spoke again, she seemed a bit calmer, her usual flightiness now more subdued.

"I truly am glad you're okay, you know. I mean...what happened to you...no one should have to go through that."

Fiyero's breath hitched, and he caught Galinda's eye, trying desperately to communicate to her to be careful...to not say too much. Because he hadn't told Elphaba everything. Not about what had happened at the end, right before Galinda had sent him back. There were some things he wanted to protect her from--she didn't need to know what state he had found her in before.

Thankfully, Galinda seemed to understand his silent message. "Anyway, I'm just...I'm glad everything turned out okay this time."

Elphaba seemed taken aback by the other girl's sincere concern. She nervously brushed her hair behind her ear, her hand trembling slightly. "Thank you," she responded quietly.

Galinda nodded. "Are you going to Shiz in the fall?" She asked, suddenly flitting to another topic. "I heard Fiyero was going, and I assumed you were too? He told me you were very smart."

"Yes..." Elphaba flushed. "I mean, 'yes,' I'm going," she managed.

"What orientation are you scheduled for?"

"Um...the one next week," Elphaba offered.

Galinda clapped her hands again, delightedly. "Oh, me too! That's absolutely perfect! We could go together, Elphie!" She paused briefly, considering. "Is it okay if I call you 'Elphie'? I heard the little girl call you that."

Elphaba glanced at her, surprised. "Well...she's nine."

If Galinda heard the wryness in her tone, she ignored it. "This is so wonderful. Here I've been, for the past six years, all by myself and thinking that I'd ruined everything. And now, here I am, and here the two of you are, and now we're all about to go to school together! How amazing is that!"

She'd elicited a slight smile from Elphaba, but no verbal response. She turned to Fiyero.

"It's...pretty amazing," he told her. She smiled at him, then suddenly glanced away. For the briefest of moments, he thought he saw a flash of sadness in Galinda's eyes, briefly marring her excitement. He couldn't help but be reminded of the last day he saw her...how she'd looked at him, finally resigned to the fact that he'd never truly loved her. That it had always been Elphaba.

He saw, briefly, that sadness in her now. And he felt for her.

But he also felt overwhelming relief. That Galinda was no longer an obstacle, but rather an ally.

It changed everything.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: Okay, so if you have no memory of this fic or are sick of putting up with my long (looong) stints of writer's block, I completely understand. I want to finish this story, and have an idea of where I'm going, but for some reason I'm struggling. So bear with me...but if you don't, I can't blame you. :)**

**On the other hand, if you are still reading (or reading for the first time), thanks! And please let me know your thoughts.**

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_But he also felt overwhelming relief. That Galinda was no longer an obstacle, but rather an ally._

_It changed everything._

_xXx  
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"It changes nothing."

Fiyero looked up at Elphaba in shock. It was later that evening, and the castle's other residents and guests had retired to bed. The two of them had been in the library working on their assignment...or rather, Elphaba had been working on the assignment. Fiyero had done nothing but chatter on ecstatically about the version of Galinda who had come to them, and about what all that would mean.

Up to that point, Elphaba had remained quiet. In his excitement, Fiyero hadn't paid her silence much mind, simply assuming that she, too, took comfort in the unexpected acquisition of their new ally.

He had, apparently, assumed wrong.

"What do you mean? Of course it does."

"Well," she said carefully, avoiding his gaze, "you're right, in a sense. It does change things, for the better. I'm glad that she knows you, and you her, and that the two of you share a past. I imagine it makes it much easier for you, to have it be her rather than a stranger. Plus, she seems quite likeable, if a bit talkative. And she clearly thinks the world of you, that much was evident..."

"Elphaba!" He interrupted, causing her to glance up at him, startled. "What are you talking about? Surely you can't still think that I would...that there would ever be..." He sighed, raking his hand through his hair. "Besides, she knows about us. About what we were to one another in the past. So she would never try to come between us now. Don't you get that?"

She sighed. "You said it yourself, Fiyero. She knows who and what we were in the _past_. But this is now. And now, there is no 'us' to come between. I thought I made that clear. There can't be."

"But, Elphaba," he responded pleadingly, "there can. Don't you understand that you're everything to me? You're all that matters. I love you, Elphaba. I always have."

Elphaba bit down hard on her lower lip, casting her eyes to the ground. Why did he have to make this so hard? Didn't he understand that it would be devastating for him—politically, personally—to marry a green freak? Circus freak, no less. If anyone ever found out...he would be a laughingstock. He didn't deserve that.

So she did the only thing she knew to do. The thing she hoped she wouldn't have to do. She hurt him.

"I don't love you," she said quietly, simply. Coldly. It took everything she had to steel herself, to ensure that there was no tremor in her voice that would belie the truth. "I never did. I didn't want to hurt you, because I do care for you very much, but as a...a friend. A brother, almost." She swallowed hard, willing herself to go on. "You wanted so much for things to be like they were before...for me to be her, _your_ Elphaba. So I tried to reciprocate your affection, and I truly was flattered." She met his eyes then, her own almost cold with their guardedness, hiding the powerful, painful emotion that felt like it was burning her from the inside out. "But I'm not her, Fiyero. And I never was. I don't...I don't feel the way she felt."

It was a long while before Fiyero could even find it within him to speak. "You're...unbelievable, you know that? Absolutely unbelievable."

She watched him quietly for a moment, then stood and came to sit next to him. "Fiyero," she began gently, her forced coldness melting, "you have to understand-"

He abruptly got up and moved away from her. "You know what? No. I don't. And regardless, I can't. But you know what I do understand? That you are stubborn to a fault, even when you are completely, utterly, horribly, misguidedly wrong. And you know what else I understand? That I apparently care a hell of a lot more about you than you ever will about me."

She stood then, almost unconsciously reaching a hand out toward him. "Fiyero, you know that's not true!"

He laughed mirthlessly. "You keep telling me what I understand and what I know. But you're wrong, Elphaba. I don't know anything, anymore. Including you."

He drew a deep breath, recognizing that he shouldn't continue, but, at that moment, too angry to care.

"So I guess you're right about one thing. You aren't the Elphaba that I knew, before. It was stupid of me to think that you were. You're _nothing_ like her."

Elphaba took a step back from him. She glanced away, but not before he caught a glimpse of the crack in her mask, the desolate, shattered pain that reflected itself in her eyes.

For a brief moment, he wanted to apologize. To comfort her. But then, she didn't want that from him, did she? She didn't want him at all.

So he left the room, without another word.

* * *

The next morning, Fiyero sat alone in the garden, so lost in thought that he didn't hear Galinda approaching.

She sat down next to him.

"So here I am, having traveled years back in time to visit you, and here you are acting all moodified. Really, Fiyero, I expected better from you." She regarded him with mock seriousness, her tone gently chiding.

"Sorry," he mumbled, not meeting her gaze.

She sighed, becoming more serious. "What is it? What's wrong?"

He didn't answer her for a while, unsure of whether to tell her. Finally, he decided that it didn't matter.

"It's Elphaba. She's made up her mind that I shouldn't be with her—that it would be against my father's wishes, and bad for the kingdom." He paused. "She thinks it's best for everyone if you and I are together."

Galinda appeared thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged. "Maybe she has a point."

Fiyero looked at her sharply, and she grinned, raising her hands before her in surrender. "I was _kidding_, Fiyero."

He glanced down at the ground. "Yeah, well...I'm not really in the mood."

She sighed. "I don't know what you're so worried about. I mean, if you think I went through all this trouble just to sit here and watch you continue to be miserable-"

"But it's not just that, Galinda," he interrupted. "She said...she said she didn't love me."

Galinda waved her hand dismissively. "She's lying. Of course she does."

He paused, then shook his head. "No...I think she was serious. She said she cared for me, like...like a..." He almost choked on the word, "Brother. But that she didn't love for me like I loved her. Like the 'other' Elphaba and I loved each other."

Galinda wrinkled her brow in confusion. "The 'other Elphaba'?" she repeated. "Fiyero, Elphaba's Elphaba. It's not like they're two different people."

"But they are!" He argued, exasperated. "They've had two different life experiences, and-"

"Blah, blah, blah," Galinda broke in, annoyed. "Soul mates, remember? Soul mates don't stop loving each other, simply because they've had 'different life experiences.' Otherwise, they wouldn't be soul mates, right?"

Fiyero shrugged.

Galinda sighed. "I'll talk to her."

"You'd have more luck talking to a brick wall," he responded, glumly.

"Well, if talking to her doesn't work, I'll try that," she responded with a smile.

He didn't laugh, but sat silently for a long time, frowning. "Galinda...can I ask you a favor?"

She sighed dramatically. "Another one?"

That got a slight smile from him, but then he turned to her, again serious. "I don't know whether Morrible will be at Shiz, in this universe. But if she is, please...please watch out for Elphaba. She knows thats a possibility, and that if she sees Morrible, she should keep her distance...but that woman terrifies me. And even though Elphaba can be infuriating...and even if she truly isn't the 'other' Elphaba and doesn't care for me the way I do for her...even then, I don't know what I'd do if I lost her again. If anything...happened to her."

Galinda met his eyes, her own serious, and a little sad. "I know, Fiyero. I'll watch out for her."

They shared an awkward silence, then Fiyero broke it.

"What I did to deserve a friend like you?"

Galinda grinned wryly. "Oz if I know."

* * *

Almost too quickly, it came time for the girls to leave for freshman orientation. Elphaba had not spoken to Fiyero since the day in the library, and it wasn't for a lack of trying. Even if she couldn't let herself be with him, for his own sake, she couldn't bear to lose him, for hers.

But he wanted nothing to do with her. He seemed to become an expert at avoiding her. So when he came out to meet them at the carriage, her eyes lit up.

"Fiyero! I hoped to-"

He cut her off. "I only wanted to wish you both a safe journey," he said formally, although emphasizing "safe."

His coldness enveloped Elphaba, and she looked down, biting back emotions that she couldn't let him see.

"We will," Galinda answered cheerfully, although it sounded a bit forced. "And we'll be back in a tick tock. Take care of yourself, dearest!"

Elphaba inwardly winced at the term of endearment.

And with that, he was gone. And they were off.

They rode in silence for a while. Elphaba tried to shake off her overwhelming melancholy. After all, this is what she'd wanted, wasn't it? At least, it's what she'd told Fiyero she'd wanted, and he'd finally respected her wishes. She should be relieved.

In an effort to pretend that she was, and that everything was fine, she made an awkward effort at engaging Galinda in conversation.

"So...what's Shiz like? I mean, you were there...before, weren't you?" Elphaba asked.

Galinda nodded and shrugged. "It was school," she responded with a slight smile, wrinkling her nose.

Elphaba couldn't help but laugh. "You sound like Fiyero." She spoke without thinking, and the sound of his name coming from her own lips filled her with an almost painful despondency.

The other girl's smile became strained. Elphaba observed her quietly.

"You love him, don't you?"

Galinda glanced at her, surprised. "I...well, I guess I did. Once."

Elphaba shook her head. "No. You still do. I can tell."

Galinda was silent for a long while. "I don't know," she finally answered softly. "And anyway, it doesn't matter."

"But it does!" Elphaba responded emphatically. "It makes all the difference! That you know him, and care about him." Elphaba hesitated then, her own words making her feel a little nauseous. But she was certain that this was a good thing for Fiyero. He needed someone like Galinda, who was beautiful, and kind, if a bit flighty. Not to mention that the blonde seemed fun-loving, carefree, lighthearted, and altogether much less serious than was Elphaba herself. She seemed to fit Fiyero much better. And if she couldn't convince Fiyero of that, perhaps she would have more luck with Galinda.

If anyone was worthy of him, it was this girl sitting next to her in the carriage.

"You deserve each other," Elphaba said finally.

Galinda studied Elphaba for a moment with a slight frown. "You just...don't get it, do you?"

It was Elphaba's turn to be surprised. "What do you mean?"

Galinda huffed irritably. "He doesn't love me. He loves _you_. Always has." There was a sincerity to her tone, albeit edged with bitterness.

Elphaba sighed. "I know he says that, now. But he'll realize, in time..."

"In _time_?" The other girl interrupted. "For Oz sake, Elphie, he's spent three lifetimes with you, in one way or another. You don't think that's enough time for him to know, with absolute certainty, that he loves you?"

Caught off guard by how passionate Galinda had suddenly become, Elphaba fumbled. "I—I mean, I don't..."

Again, Galinda cut her off. "I saw him, right before I did the spell to send him back. I saw what he was like...has he told you about that day?"

Elphaba glanced up at her, confused.

Galinda seemed to hesitate then. She worried her lower lip and regarded Elphaba silently for a moment, before continuing with a sigh.

"He wouldn't want me to be telling you this, but...you were _dying_, Elphaba. He'd found you while raiding a fair set up by a camp of vagabonds, but it was too late. You were terribly ill, and you were going to die...and he knew that." Galinda swallowed. "I've never seen anyone so...broken. So incredibly devastated. I knew that if he lost you, that would be it for him. And I loved him too much to let him live out the rest of his life without you."

She paused for a moment, then continued with difficulty. "So you're right, I guess. I loved him, and I still do. And I know you love him, and you think that by forcing him away, you're doing what's in his best interest. But I know that by telling you how wrong you are, I'm _really_ doing what's best for him. Because maybe you can't understand right now how much he loves you...but I can. I did. I _saw_ him that day."

At that last, Galinda's voice hitched, and she turned suddenly to look out the window. Elphaba looked down at her hands, shaken, her mind racing. Fiyero had never told her that she'd almost died. He'd never told her that if he hadn't come back and found her when she was a little girl, she would have stayed there, caged, until it killed her. She shivered at the revelation. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the seat, taking a deep breath.

She sat that way for a while, trying, without much success, to stop the world from spinning around her.

She thought of what it must have been like to die. She thought of what Galinda had said, about that day. And she thought of the day in the library...of the anger and defeat with which he'd left. She'd pushed him...her friend, her savior, her...lover?...she'd pushed him away too many times. So many times that even if what Galinda had just told her of his love for her were true yesterday, it was most likely no longer true today.

What had she done?

"We're here," Galinda said tersely.


End file.
